A Tale of Two Shepards
by fredesrojo
Summary: AU Jibbs-ish, Jenny/OC friendship fic. Jenny has a little sister. Will eventually include spoilers for all seasons.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/n; And, here we are with another one of those long chapter stories I'll update once every blue moon. I'm not quite sure where this came from, I saw a Lauren Holly movie the other day("Before You Say I Do", I think), and then I watched Covert Affairs and thought how she sort of treats Annie like a little sister, and this little plot bunny decided to take up residence in the overflowing petting zoo in my head. **_

_**Um, things you need to know:**_

_****__**Anastasia Jaqueline "A.J." Shepard (19 in this chapter): Youngest child of Jasper and Elanor Shepard. Nine years younger than Jenny. Takes after her father in looks and coloring, while Jenny takes after their mother. Blonde, blue-grey eyes, slightly taller than Jenny. Tomboy, consummate flirt, v**__****__**ery sarcastic, distrustful of others, commitment-phobe, prankster,**_ personality somewhat like Gregory House and a younger Tony DiNozzo all rolled into one.   


_**Jasper Shepard has been dead for two years as of this chapter. Elanor Shepard died three years after A.J. was born. Jenny became A.J.'s legal guardian after Jasper's death.**_

_**Jenny just recently got the job at NCIS working with Gibbs. The Jethro-Jenny relationship will factor into this story somewhat, but the majority of it will be the relationship (or lack thereof) between the Shepard sisters. **_

_**The story will likely skip around the timeline as ideas strike me, so the chapters do not need to be read in order, I'll post the relevant date and any spoilers at the beginning of each chapter. **_

_**This will very likely end up AU by the end, just because of the way my head works.**_

_**-meg**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no matter how much I wish it. I just mess with them.**_

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**1. Dissapointment**

**October 18, 1996- University of Notre Dame (Pre-series)**

Special Agent Jennifer Shepard leaned against the outer wall of McGlinn Hall, bright green eyes surveying the picturesque campus of the University of Notre Dame laid out in front of her. She flicked a glance down at her watch, letting out an irritated sigh as she slipped her cell out of her pocket, flipping it open and dialing a number from memory.

"'_Lo?"_ A distinctly groggy voice crackled through the other end of the line.

Jenny smirked, shaking her head. _She_ was anything but predictable. "A.J. I take it you've forgotten what today is?"

There was a significant pause followed by a muffled curse. _"Bugger. Hang on; let me put some clothes on. I'll be down in a tic."_

Jenny nodded slowly, smirking as she snapped the phone shut.

The side door to the dorm opened, a tall, lithe blonde scrambling out, jerking a grey "Fighting Irish" hoodie over her head. "Hey, Jen."

Jenny ran a quizzical eye over the girl, taking in the rumpled hair and khaki shorts two sizes too big, held up with a belt cinched to the last stop. "Whose pants are those?"

She smirked, shrugging one shoulder lazily. "No-one you need to concern yourself with, sis." A.J. swept slate grey eyes over the redhead in front of her. "I take it you got the job, then." She jerked her head towards the gold badge resting at Jenny's belt.

Jenny raised her eyebrows at the brusque subject change, giving her sister an odd look. "Yeah…but that doesn't change the fact that you're clearly wearing someone's pants, from the looks of them, a _male_ someone."

"You gonna snoop into my sex life now, _Mum_?" A.J. let out a derisive snort, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right. None of your business. Let's just accept the fact that they're clearly not my pants and move on."

"Um, no we won't."

"Yeah, we will, or _you'll_ be getting right back in that Benz of yours and driving your little old self right back to D.C." The blonde folded her arms across her chest, giving Jenny a pointed look. "My private life's my life, Jen. You stay outta mine, I'll stay outta yours."

She acquiesced with an irritated huff, stuffing her hands in her jeans pockets. "Fine. You still owe me a tour, though."

A.J. nodded, relaxing her defensive posture. "C'mon. Let's go get some food. I'm starving."

They sat at a table near the back wall in the dining hall, Jenny making sure to face both exits. A.J. gave her a quizzical look, frowning slightly. "Why are you so paranoid?"

Jenny blinked, blushing slightly as she realized what she'd been doing. "Sorry. Habit from the job. Or, well, more of a lesson beaten into my head by my boss."

The blonde made a vague noise, tucking into her scrambled eggs and hash browns with gusto. "I'm hoping you don't mean literally beating, J."

She bit her lip, glancing down at the cinnamon roll on her plate.

A.J. looked up, her eyes glinting with a slightly dangerous light. "Jen…"

The redhead shrugged nonchalantly, breaking off one of the outer edges of the roll. "It's just a little tap to the back of the head. No big deal."

"Not a big deal?" A.J.'s fork lay forgotten on her plate as she stared across the table at her elder sister, an almost murderous look flashing in her eyes. "I'll kill him."

"A, no." Jenny reached across the table, gripping her sister's hand tightly. "I can take care of myself. I took him down a few pegs in the gym, so I got even."

"Still, Jen, that's not right."

"He's done it twice since I've been hired, yet he hits Burley on an hourly basis. I'm pretty sure I've got the better end of this deal, A.J."

She relaxed after a moment, returning to her food with an uncertain glance at Jenny. "Alright…"

Jenny took another bite of cinnamon roll, grinning. "Thanks for the protection, though."

"Hey. Nobody messes with my big sister and gets away with it."

"Mmhmm. I'd like to see you stand up to that claim with Gibbs."

A.J. snorted, stabbing another bite of potato and eggs. "What, is he some muscle-bound, iron-pumping Navy brat?"

"Nope. Marine sniper." Jenny tilted her head sideways, picturing Gibbs in her head as she described him. "He's got a rule about _everything_. Always has a knife, mainlines coffee. I think he's in the middle of his second divorce now, if the phone arguments are anything to go by. Quite the temper, too."

"Yeah, right. Bet I could still deck him."

She shook her head slowly. "He's fast, and strong. Six-one, two-ten or so, really broad shoulders. He's got this sort of…salt and pepper hair, like Daddy had before he went completely grey…blue eyes…" She trailed off, not noticing the slightly disgusted look A.J. made across the table.

"Jesus, Jen, why doncha just jump right into bed with him? Sounds like you've done enough _checking out_ of your own." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, shaking her head.

Jenny flushed, glaring down at the half-eaten roll on her plate. "I am _not_ going to sleep with him! He's _married_!"

A.J. smirked, pointing the fork at her teasingly. "You said yourself he's heading for divorce."

"So! That doesn't mean I want to sleep with him! He's my boss!"

"Riiiiiight. And we all know what you think of rules regarding people of authority and 'relationships' with them." A.J. waggled her eyebrows again, the smirk widening.

Jenny's blush deepened as A.J.'s insinuation to her 'relationship' with her college history professor sunk in. She shook her head sharply, glaring at her sister. "Not happening."

"Whatever. This devil-dog Marine boss of yours got a name other than 'Gibbs'?"

She grinned slightly, raising one shoulder in an amused half-shrug. "Er…Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

A.J. snorted with laughter, spluttering on the drink of orange juice she had just taken. "You're kidding."

Jenny shook her head slowly, chewing on another bite of cinnamon roll. "Definitely not kidding. There's no way I could think up anything that ridiculous myself."

"Damn. And I thought I had a bad name."

"Your name isn't that bad. I think Anas-." Jen was cut off as A.J. lunged across the table, clapping a firm hand across her sister's mouth.

"Shut. Up."

She smirked beneath her sister's hand, her eyes flashing mischievously. "What? It's pretty."

A.J. snorted, removing her hand. "It's not me."

"What do you mean, 'not you'?"

"It doesn't fit my personality."

"That's the biggest load of-." Jenny stopped in the middle of her sentence, noticing her cell ringing shrilly on the table. A.J. darted forward, snatching up the phone and answering while using her free hand to keep Jen at bay.

"Hi there. You've reached Jenny Shepard. She can't come to the phone right now, she's a wee bit occupied. 'Kay thanks!" The blonde shut the phone with a decisive snap, slipping it in the pocket of her cargo shorts.

"A.J….give me the phone."

She shook her head, folding her arms stubbornly."Nuh uh. You're off this weekend, and you're up here visiting me. Work doesn't get to take you away from that."

"A.J.! I need my phone! I have to know who called!"

"It said 'JG-Mobile' on the caller-id. Who's J.G.?"

Jenny paled visibly, scrabbling around the table to practically tackle her sister. "_Give me that phone, __**now**_**!"**

A.J. yelped, grabbing onto the edge of the table to prevent the both of them from tumbling to the floor. "What the hell, Jen?"

"Give me my phone! Now, A.J.!"

"No! You're up here visiting me, and you promised you wouldn't let work get in the way."

"A.J., seriously, I need my phone. One call, that's it." Jenny pleaded with her sister, trying to slip the phone out of her pocket secretly.

"Fine. One call, five minutes max."

Jenny took the phone back, cradling the thing as if it were a baby. She re-dialed the last call, listening as it rang.

"_Where the hell are you, Shepard?"_

"I took the weekend off! We're not on call! What do you want, Gibbs?"

"_Rule Three, Shepard. I expect you back in D.C. in two hours. We're going to get your firearms quals."_

Jenny paled, glancing sideways as she spoke. "I—I can't, Gibbs, honestly. I'm not in town, and I took a personal weekend."

"_Cancel it. You have two and a half hours, Shepard, or you're finding a new team to work on."_

"I—but…" Jenny trailed off as the phone went dead with a click, sighing unhappily. She turned to A.J. with a slightly apologetic look on her face. "A…I've got to go."

The blonde's face fell. "Jen, you _promised_."

"I—I know, but I have to, he…I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She watched as A.J.'s face closed down, hiding the rejection well. "Fine. Go. I'll talk to you later, I guess." A.J. stood abruptly, jamming her hands deep in her pockets as she walked away, her shoulders stiff.

Jenny sighed as she watched her little sister go. She had a sinking feeling this wasn't going to be the first time she disappointed her sister for the job.

* * *

**_There's Chapter 1. Chapter 2 should be up in a day or two, I'm almost done with it. _**

**_yes, Gibbs is a jerk. I figure with him going through a divorce with Diane, he probably would be more...Gibbs than usual. Thus, ripping Jenny's free weekend away. So he's a little mean. Sue me._**

**_Review, tell me what you think!_**

**_-meg._**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/n: Well, this finished itself faster than I thought. And yet I've been stuck for a month and a half on The Gunny's Son. Lovely, brain, you're being a big help here.**_

**_Aaaaanyways, here's Chapter 2. No Gibbs in this one, other than a passing mention, sorry. Ducky does make an appearance, though._**

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**2. Going to Paris**

**January 19, 1998- Shepard Residence, Washington, D.C.**

Jenny Shepard pulled into the parking spot in front of her Georgetown townhouse, exhausted. Finally, after a week and a half of little to no sleep, they had solved the case and she could rest.

She stumbled across the street, practically falling asleep on her feet. The presence of one A.J. Shepard, complete with duffel bag and backpack sitting on the front stoop brought the exhausted Special Agent up short. "A? What are you doing here?"

"Hm. Max owes me twenty, then, I was right. You forgot, didn't you?" The college senior hoisted the duffel bag up onto her shoulder as she swiped the keys from her older sister, unlocking the front door.

"Forgot…what?" She honestly couldn't think right now, it was like her brain was protesting being used after so long without time to recharge.

"Nevermind, Jen. You look dead on your feet. C'mon." A.J. slipped a strong arm around Jenny's shoulders, guiding her upstairs to bed. "Get some sleep, sis."

Jenny managed a half garbled mumble as her head hit the pillow, falling asleep instantly.

A.J. sighed, slipping the redhead's cell phone into her pocket as she left the bedroom. Work wasn't going to interrupt this time; she would make sure of it.

* * *

The tantalizing aroma of coffee and pancakes made its way up the stairs and into Jenny's bedroom some hours later, drawing the redhead out of her slumber. She shuffled downstairs, stumbling blearily into the kitchen.

A.J. murmured a low greeting and shoved a stack of pancakes and a giant mug of coffee in front of her sister, hopping up on the kitchen counter as Jenny ate.

"Feeling better?"

Jenny took a long drink of coffee, cupping her hands around the cup to soak in its warmth."A little. I'm exhausted, though."

The blonde grunted in agreement, swinging her feet aimlessly off the counter. "You look like hell."

"Well gee, thanks, A, go ahead and tell me how it is."

"Was just an observation."

The redhead rolled her eyes, returning to the plate of pancakes. She spoke up after a long silence, turning to look her younger sister in the eye. "Who's Max, and why do they owe you money?"

"Max is a…friend. I jokingly made a bet that you'd forget that I'm visiting this weekend. You didn't remember, therefore Max owes me twenty. Or a keg, whichever is more expensive."

"I didn't forget!"

A.J. snorted, pinning Jenny with a knowing look."Clearly. So I just sat outside on the front steps for three hours because you remembered."

"I was going to ca-."

"Right, you were going to call, and then the Almighty Gibbs gave you something to do. I get it, I'm less important than your job, that's fine. Just, next time, find a way to let me know, will ya? I could've gone to Orlando with Max and Theo if I would've known you had stuff to do."

"A.J., no, I didn't forget! I want you here, honest!" Jenny set her fork down, giving her sister her full attention. "Please don't be angry. I was going to call and got caught up finishing my case report; I didn't think it'd take that long."

A.J. lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, pulling her feet up to sit Indian-style on the counter. "I'm already here, 's not worth leaving now. It's fine."

Jenny gave her sister a sad look, resolving to make it up to her the rest of the weekend.

* * *

**January 20, 1998- Shepard Residence**

"I don't understand how you can eat that, it's salt and noodles in a bowl, A." Jenny shook her head as they sat at the table the next day, eating a late breakfast. A.J. had refused the cereal Jenny offered, heating up a large bowl of Oriental Ramen instead.

"Um, hello, stereotypical college staple food? I live off of Ramen, Jen." A.J. shrugged unconcernedly, shoveling noodles into her mouth with chopsticks.

"And yet I pay four grand a year for your dining plan." The redhead rolled her eyes, sighing.

"I use that, too."

"Yet you manage to _lose_ weight, which I absolutely do not understand. I run at the gym four days a week and eat healthy, and you go to parties and eat Ramen and I'm the one fighting to stay the same dress size." Jenny huffed rather petulantly, crossing her arms and glaring at the thin blonde.

She smirked in reply, tapping the side of her nose knowingly. "Ah, but last I checked, I'm the only Shepard getting laid."

"Must you turn everything into sex, A?"

"It's been proven to burn calories, Jen! I've got literal scientific proof. 'S not _my_ fault you're a prude, Jenny."

Jenny gasped, glaring at her sister. "I am not a prude!"

"'Course you aren't. And I'm the President."

"So I should just sleep with the next guy who walks past, Miss Flavor-of-the-Week?"

"Um, ow, mean." A.J. put a hand over her heart, giving Jenny a mock wounded look. "I'm not saying you need to be like me. What I have works because I hate commitment and I like the short and sweet part of the relationships I'm in. Just, loosen up a bit. Go on a date; find some cute guy you wouldn't mind dating for a while just to have someone to come home to."

"Yeah, right, who's going to want to cope with my schedule?"

"I never said you couldn't fish off of the company pier, Jen. Isn't that boss of yours cute? You talk about him enough."

"Ugh, no, not this again. I'm not sleeping with Jethro, A.J."

"_Oooooooh_, he's _Jethro_ now." A.J. snickered teasingly, pretending to swoon as she pitched her voice in a breathy imitation of Jenny. "Oh, Jethro, I love your baby blue eyes! You're so strong and silent and sexy!" _Whack. _"Ow, damn, Jen that hurt."

"Don't make fun of me."

"Ah, ya big baby, can't take a wee bit of teasing." She stuck her tongue out, returning to her bowl of Ramen. "Whatever, J, do what you want. Just remember, the right thing isn't always real obvious. Sometimes the right thing for one person is the wrong thing for someone else, so…good luck figuring that out."

* * *

"Why are we here again?"

"Because you have the attention span of a goldfish."

"Um, mean." A.J. rolled her eyes, following Jenny through the throngs of people in the mall. "Seriously, Jen, why are we here?"

"We're meeting a friend of mine for lunch."

"Whoa, you have friends?"

"Shut up." Jenny whacked A.J. sharply in the shoulder, tugging the blonde after her as they entered a small bar and grille.

"Why do you keep hitting me?"

"Because you're an idiot." Jenny pasted on a false smile for the hostess. "Three, under Mallard."

A.J. leaned in close to her sister as they followed the hostess into the restaurant, heading for a small wraparound booth near the back. "Mallard? Are we doing something work-related, Jen? 'Cause if we are, I'll kick your ass."

"Dr. Mallard is a friend from work, but this isn't work related."

They took a seat at the booth, aimlessly flipping through the menu as they waited for their third party member.

A.J. surveyed the restaurant disinterestedly, fidgeting with the menu in her hands. "I'm bored."

Jenny let out a muffled groan, letting her head fall to the table with a muffled thump. "A.J., I swear to all that is holy, if you do not shut the hell up, I'm going to kill you."

A slightly stooped man wearing a fedora and long overcoat hurried up to the table as Jenny spoke, sliding into the booth next to the redhead. "My apologies, Jennifer, Mother was being rather difficult this afternoon." He removed his hat and coat, giving the third occupant of their booth a warm smile. "Good afternoon, my dear. I take it you are the A.J. Jennifer mentioned?"

A.J. took his offered hand with a guarded smile, glancing over at her sister. "Uh, yeah. A.J. Shepard. I'm Jenny's younger sister."

"Lovely to meet you, my dear. Dr. Donald Mallard, although most call me Ducky."

"Nice to meet you, Ducky." A.J. gave him a slightly more welcoming smile. "I take it you're the Ducky who patched her up when she cut her head open last month, then?"

"One and the same." The ME smiled, shaking his head slightly as he glanced over at the redhead. "She seemed to think she could take out a hyped up Marine all on her own."

"Huh. Seems to do that a lot, take on things bigger than her."

Jenny broke in on the conversation, waving her hand between the two. "Um, hello, sitting right here. Can we order now, before my entire life history gets spilled?"

"Oh, darn, I've already got the annotated version of your life history all set to go to the publishers, Jen."

"Not funny."

"'Course it wasn't." A.J. grinned, winking at Ducky. "I'm getting a beer."

"Nuh uh. It's not even close to five, A."

"Um, four points. One, you're not Mum. Two, its five o'clock somewhere. Three, you can't have baby-back ribs without a beer. Four, you're not paying. Leave me alone, woman!" A.J. batted Jenny's hand away, smiling politely at the waitress. "Hi. I'd like a Bud Light, please. And we'd like some chips and salsa for an appetizer."

Ducky ordered a small cola, while Jenny ordered a Diet Coke.

"You know those things are full of fake sugar, right?"

Jenny snapped out of her blank stare at the menu. "Huh?"

"Diet Coke's bad for ya, Jen."

"I would have to agree with A.J. here, Jennifer. Diet sodas are full of chemicals and other things. If anything, regular colas are better for you. At least the sugars and calories are able to be broken down." Ducky's eyes twinkled in mild amusement as he watched the redhead glare at her sister.

"Ah, you're just pissed he said I'm right, Jenny. Quit the glaring."

Jenny scowled, settling back in the booth with a huff as their drinks arrived. "Can I actually get a regular Coke?"

A.J. snorted into her beer, setting the bottle on the table. "I win."

"It's not a game!"

"Everything's a game. Shoot, Jen, _life's_ _a game_. Shit happens, and then you die."

Jenny shook her head despairingly. "It's extremely interesting to me how you always expect the worst from everything."

A.J. shrugged, taking another sip of beer. "Well, if I look at everything that way I'm never disappointed, and then sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised. Murphy's a vindictive little bastard; I like to keep my eye on him, make sure he doesn't sneak up and bite me in the ass."

"That's an extremely pragmatic view of the world, my dear."

"What's wrong with pragmatism? I'd rather see things practically than idealistically."

Jenny sighed, smiling at the waitress as she dropped off the Coke, taking a long sip through her straw. "A.J., it just sounds so…jaded."

"And who the hell cares? Life sucks, shit happens, and then you die. Welcome to the real world, Jen. It's been clubbing people in the face for eons." A.J. set her beer down, standing. "I'm going to the ladies room. Don't tell all the family secrets while I'm away!"

* * *

Jenny rubbed a tired hand over her face, staring dejectedly down into her drink. "I don't know what to do, Ducky. I can't read her anymore, not like I used to."

"Her worldviews are rather jaded; I will give you that, though that's not necessarily a bad thing. She covers her insecurity in dealing with people in a good deal of sarcasm and name-calling. The fact that she utilizes her initials rather than her full name makes me think she's probably not had much of a female influence in her life."

She nodded slowly, still focused on her drink. "Mom died when she was three."

Ducky continued, his eyes focused on the beer bottle in A.J.'s empty place as he spoke. "That explains a good deal. She doesn't let people in because she's subconsciously afraid that they'll leave her. I'm hazarding a guess that A.J. doesn't do steady relationships. She seems like a loner. Reminds me a bit of Jethro, when I first met him. Give it time, Jennifer. Just because she won't open up to you doesn't mean she won't do it at all. She just needs to find the right tacking board to bounce her issues off of."

The redhead gave him a sad look, shaking her head. "She wasn't even disappointed when I forgot she was coming for a visit. She made a bet with her friends, and bet against me."

"Low expectations of family speak of abandonment issues. You told me there's nine years between the two of you. You had your mother for much of the formative years of your life. A.J. did not. You had a two-parent home for the first half of your life. A.J. had to cope with a single, widower father. You started college before she finished grade school, taking the only other female influence out of her life."

"I just…I want my little sister back. A.J. hasn't been the same, not since…she's just not the same anymore."

A.J. chose that moment to walk back up to the table, right as Ducky was about to answer. "Sorry. Long line."

"Quite alright, my dear. We were merely chatting about work." Ducky smiled faintly, patting her hand. "Jennifer tells me you go to the University of Notre Dame?"

* * *

"He was pretty nice." A.J. walked alongside Jenny, hands cocooned in the pocket of her hoodie. "Little old fashioned, insisting on paying the check like that, but nice."

Jenny shrugged, flicking a few loose pieces of hair out of her face. "Ducky's like the Anti-Gibbs. If I'm upset at work, I go talk to Ducky. If I wanna punch something or shoot someone, I go to the firing range or the gym with Jethro."

"So, are all the guys you work with chauvinists?"

"Eh…pretty much."

"Yikes." A.J. winced sympathetically. "I'd hate that."

"It gets a little old sometimes, but you learn to deal."

The blonde nodded. "So, what is it you have to tell me?"

"What?"

"You've been looking at me all day like you have to tell me something. Just spit it out already."

Jenny frowned, taking a deep breath. Might as well plunge in. Rip the bandage off fast, make it quick. "I—I'm going on an undercover mission in Paris."

"Huh. When?"

She winced, scratching the back of her head. "Um…next week."

"Ah. I see." A.J.'s face was blank. "How long?"

"I—we don't know, right now. Supposedly, it's kinda long term. We could, uh…might be six months."

"Hm." She let out a noncommittal grunt, still hiding all but a slight flicker of emotion on her face. "So I probably shouldn't be expecting you for graduation, then."

Jenny sighed, reaching out to grab A.J.'s shoulder, pulling both of them to a stop. "A.J….I don't want to let you down. I don't like letting you down. I just…"

"It's your career, I know." A.J. managed a faint smile. "It's okay, Jen. It's just a dumb ceremony. You already saw my high school one; it's the same thing with more pompous assholes talking. It's not a big deal."

"Don't say that. It's your college graduation, A.J. It is a big deal." Jenny swallowed, gripping her sister's shoulders tighter. "I tell you what. I'll try my hardest to be able to come back for that weekend, okay? I'm not gonna leave you to walk across that stage all alone. I promise, A.J., I will try everything to make sure I'm back for this, okay?"

The blonde nodded hesitantly after a long moment, the side of her lips quirking in a half smile. Jenny smiled back, pulling her into a tight hug.

A.J. stiffened for a moment, finally relaxing into the hug. "You gonna bring me back any goodies from 'The City of Love'?"

"'Course I will. I'll buy you one of those dumb I Heart Paris shirts, first thing."

* * *

**January 21, 1998-Train Station, Washington, D.C.**

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for a while." Jenny stood on the train platform with A.J., both staring at the five minute warning flashing on the boarding signs.

"Yep." A.J. shifted her grip on the duffle over her shoulder, fidgeting with the tag on the handle. She turned to look Jenny, seemingly remembering something. "Hey. Promise me you'll be safe in France."

"Of course I will, A.J. You know me." She gave her a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder lightly. "And you won't do anything dumb at school?"

"Who, me? Perish the thought!" A.J. grinned easily in reply, sticking her tongue out. The two minute warning for her train blared across the platforms. A.J. sobered slightly, turning to give Jenny a half hug. "Have fun in Paris, Jenny. Make sure you write me every once in a while, so I know you're not dead."

"Yes, ma'am." Jenny lengthened the hug for just a moment longer, slipping a small note in her sister's expansive cargo pocket. "Now, go, you'll miss your train."

A.J. grinned, jogging over to hop on the train.

"Hey, A.J." Jenny called out at the last minute, stopping the blonde right before she boarded the train. "I love you."

She smiled back, raising one hand in a farewell wave. "Love you too, Jen. Be safe."

* * *

**_Well, there you go, Chapter 2. Set around eighteen months after Ch. 1, give or take a few months. Next Ch. will definitely focus on the start to Jenny and Jethro's relationship, and how the distance affects A.J. and Jenny's relationship. _**

**_Review, tell me what you think!_**

**_-meg_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/n: Aaaaugh, this thing apparently won't leave me alone._**

**_This chapter is definitely out of order from the previous two, but an argument with my younger brother and a spy movie marathon while in the ER with a concussion have led to this little short chapter. _**

**_Timeline-wise, this occurs after Jenny and Jethro split in Paris. _**

**_Jenny is on assignment in Europe. (No Ziva yet, I'll work the Cairo angle into the story in the next few chapters.)_**

**_ A.J. graduated from Notre Dame in May of 1998, and moved to London in July of 1999. She works as a liason to MI-6, the British Secret Intelligence Service. (Very James Bond :P) No, I'm not going to tell you what American agency she's on loan from, that will become a sticking point in the story later on. She's been an Agent since August of 1999._**

**_that is all, I believe. _****_-meg_**

**_

* * *

_****3. Disunion**

**January 26, 2001-London, England (Pre-Series)**

A.J. Shepard unlocked the door to her London flat wearily at the end of a long day, a bag of groceries tucked under one arm. She made her way into the kitchen, tossing the groceries on the counter with a long sigh.

"Aren't you going to say hello?"

A.J. jumped, whipping a SIG from the holster at the small of her back, pointing it directly into the green eyes of her intruder. "Son of a bitch! Dammit, Jen, you can't do that!"

Jenny took a step back as A.J. lowered the gun, her hands held up in a defensive gesture. "Hey, I'm sorry, I just thought I'd surprise you."

"You don't _surprise_ a goddamn MI-6 Agent, dammit. You sit outside the damn door and wait for said Agent to get home. How the hell did you get in here?"

The redhead looked taken-aback, staring wide-eyed at the angry blonde in front of her. "A…I was just trying to surprise you. I followed the mailman into the building and picked the lock. I figured you'd be okay. It was just a joke, A.J."

A.J. let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over her face. "Shit." She shook her head slightly, disarming her SIG and tossing the clip and slide on the counter. "Sorry. I haven't had the greatest of weeks." She looked up with a crooked half-smile. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

Jenny relaxed with a smile, stepping forward to wrap her arms around her sister in a hug. "It's good to see you, A.J."

"Good to see you too, now that you're not breaking into my flat." A.J. pulled back, holding Jenny at arm's length. "You're thin as a rail."

Jenny shrugged casually. "Been undercover, haven't had much time to eat lately."

"And this has nothing at all to do with the fact that you're still pining away for Jethro."

"What?"

Calm grey eyes stared down the redhead. "I'm not an idiot or a fool, and I don't appreciate being treated like one. You don't eat when you're depressed about a guy. Cut the bullshit."

Jenny crossed her arms stubbornly, glaring at her sister. "I'm not pining away for _anything_."

"You keep tellin' yourself that, kid." A.J. shrugged.

"This is all coming from the woman who can't keep a steady relationship for longer than three months before she runs away."

"Hey, bugger off, alright? What I do with my life is my concern."

"Yeah, and the same with mine."

"Not when it's affecting your health!" A.J. stepped forward, grabbing Jenny by the shoulders again. "You're going to get yourself killed. Tom Morrow called me a month ago, said you'd gotten yourself hurt _again_ on a UC Op, and you insisted on jumping right in to a new one!"

"It was a gunshot wound to the shoulder! Through and through, I was fine in three days! You don't need to worry yourself about me, I'm doing fine!" Jenny spun out of A.J.'s grip, her eyes flashing in anger.

"You can't bury yourself in work, dammit! Traveling all over God's green Earth on UC Ops isn't going to make up for the fact that you cut and run from the one thing you've been looking for your whole damn life!"

"You're a hypocrite, A.J.! You run away from anything remotely resembling a committed relationship, and you try and tell me I'm wrong for leaving him for the job?"

"You _ARE_ wrong! You told me yourself you thought he was 'the one'! I'm not the type to be looking for all that 'true love', 'Prince Charming' bullshit, so you can't call me a hypocrite. We're looking for different things, and you threw yours away for a damn job."

"It's more than just a job! I'm working my way up to what I've dreamed of my whole life!"

"You're working your way up to be an ass-kissing politician on Capitol Hill is what you're doing. I can't believe you'd willingly give up the one good thing that's happened to you for a stupid job." A.J. shook her head sadly. "Your whole five-point-plan, J? It's a load of bullshit. You're going to wind up old and alone up top. I hope you enjoy it."

Jenny stared at her sister for a long time, her face inscrutable. "Fine, then, if that's the way you see it."

A.J. nodded firmly, her gaze rather sad. "It is."

The redhead's lips twitched in a pained half smile. "Maybe this whole visit was a bad idea. I should go."

"You probably should."

Jenny nodded jerkily, grabbing her duffle bag and heading for the door.

"Jen." A.J.'s low voice brought the redhead to a stop, her hand resting on the knob.

"Hm?"

"I think it's best we don't contact each other anymore. Conflicting covers and all that." A.J. stood at the kitchen counter, her shoulders hunched.

"Alright, then." The redhead wrapped her fingers around the handle, pulling the door open. "Goodbye, A.J."

"Bye, Jen."

* * *

"_We both had half of a full life, which was somehow enough for us. But not for them." _

**_My favorite quote from the movie The Prestige. I think it is somewhat appropriate here._**

**_Yes, there's a reason I'm having the Shepard sisters go their separate ways. No, I will not divulge said reason. The broken relationship between Jenny and A.J. will be explored in the next few chapters._**

**_Reviews are lovely!_**

**_-meg._**


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/n: I take back what I said earlier, maybe being concussed is useful? I managed to write this an part of a one-shot I've been thinking of for a while today because I'm not allowed in class for a few days, until the doc is sure my concussion hasn't affected too much._**

**_Anyways. Um, again, this one isn't connected to the previous chapter. It's actually the Chapter 3 I originally promised, the one detailing the start of Jethro and Jenny's relationship and the effects on A.J. and Jenny's relationship._**

**_Things you need to know..._**

**_A.J. recently graduated. _**

**_Jenny, Jethro, and Ducky are on assignment in Paris, tracking arms dealers. _**

**_Jethro thinks that A.J. is Jenny's best friend, not her sister. (Believe me, this will be relevant later.)_**

**_that's it, I think. _**

**_Chapter 4! Woo!_**

**_-meg.

* * *

_**

**4. Letters from Europe**

**June 12, 1998- Paris, France (Pre-series)**

A heavily callused hand slid up the smooth expanse of her back to curl around her shoulder, stroking the bare skin there with a thumb. "Whatcha writing?" His low voice broke through her concentration on the paper in front of her.

"Letter to a friend of mine." Jenny let out a moan of approval as his rough hands began massaging her shoulders, working out a knot in her neck muscles. "Mmm…don't stop."

He pressed a few light kisses to the freckles at the top of her shoulders, murmuring softly with his lips against her skin. "Who's your friend?"

She set the pen and paper to the side, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. "Mmm…friend from college, promised I'd write every once in a while to guarantee I'm not dead."

He pushed the paper further away, wrapping strong arms around her waist to pull her back against him. "Feel pretty not dead to me."

Jenny laughed softly, turning in his grip to push him flat on his back, her lips scattering light kisses and nips across his torso. "Maybe you should make sure. Y'know, that I'm not dead."

Gibbs grinned, both hands wrapping around her upper arms to pull her face up to his. "Gotta make sure…"

Jenny gasped as he began nuzzling her neck, sprawling her body across his. "Definitely."

* * *

A.J. Shepard stared at the letter in her hands, smirking as she threw her head back and laughed. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number from memory.

"_Dr. Mallard_."

"Hey, Ducky. It's A.J."

"_A.J., my dear, how lovely to hear from you! To what do I owe this phone call?"_

"Are the rumors true?"

_There was a long pause on the other end of the line, then a short intake of breath. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say anything."_

"Pffft. Not commenting only serves to confirm it, Ducky."

"_Well, they __**are**__ playing married tourists."_

"Mmmhmm. Tell Jenny she owes me 50 dollars. She'll know why." A.J. snapped the phone shut, returning her gaze to the letter in front of her.

_Hey A,_

_How are things back in the states? France is everything I thought it would be and more. Beautiful cities, nice people, wonderful atmosphere._

_This op Jethro and I are on is ridiculous, though. We're basically people watching. It's dreadfully boring. I can't believe the cover the London office gave us. And Jethro is being absolutely insufferable. Chauvinistic pig._

_Sorry about missing your graduation. Jethro said it would jeopardize the op. I tried to tell him he was full of crap, but he overruled me. (And took my passport, the nerve of him!) _

_You know that thing we talked about in the last letter? I think I've found it, A.J. I really think I've found the one thing I've been looking for all these years. It's funny; I almost miss having you here, if only for the sarcastic comments._

_Miss you, have fun with your newly minted "College Graduate" status._

_-J_

The blonde shook her head, laughing quietly. "Told ya you'd end up sleeping with him, J."

She took a seat at her kitchen table, pulling a notepad and a pen across to begin her reply.

_J,_

_HA, I was right, and there's nothing you can do about it! (Well, there is, but I know you well enough to know you won't give __**that**__ up.)_

_Glad to here Paris is living up to its cliché. Can't believe you actually think France is nice, though. French people sound like they've got something stuck up their nose. And who likes croissants, honestly? You must be off your rocker. All that people watching is making you say crazy things._

_Things are pretty boring back here in the states. I'm wandering aimlessly until I find a job I like; right now I'm working at the library to pay the rent on my apartment. It's alright about the grad ceremony, it was a load of crap anyways._

_Have fun in the City of Love, Red. Don't do anything I wouldn't do._

_-A

* * *

_

"Another letter from your friend?" Warm arms wrapped themselves around Jenny's waist, pulling her back into a hard body.

She smiled faintly, setting the letter on the counter. "Mmmhmm."

"You'll have to write her back, we've been reassigned." Gibbs spoke matter-of-factly, squinting to read the scrawling script in the letter. "Give her your new address."

"Where are we going?"

"Czech Republic, then Siberia. Morrow wants us to focus specifically on Zukov's part of the ring."

Jenny frowned, tilting her head back to look at him. "I don't speak Russian, I haven't the faintest idea why he wants us to go there."

"Enough people there speak Russian for us to get by with it."

"Huh. Is Ducky coming?"

"No, he's been reassigned back to the States. His particular network of friends and contacts doesn't extend into the former Soviet Bloc."

"Oh, goody. Winter all alone in the former USSR. Thrilling. What's next, searching for a long lost Soviet nuke?"

Gibbs laughed deep in his chest, kissing the back of her neck gently. "Nah. Strictly intel gathering. New covers will be here by the end of today."

* * *

_Hey A,_

_Point A: Shut up. Just…shut up._

_We're leaving France. Reassignment to Prague, and eventually somewhere in Siberia tracking a Russian lead._

_You're a librarian? Weird. That's like, the last job I would ever expect you to take._

_Sure as hell wish I knew Russian. This is going to be fun. _

_I'll send the new address as soon as I can._

_Miss you. Be safe._

_-J

* * *

_

_J,_

_Ah, you're just mad 'cause you know I'm right._

_Prague? Yeesh. Be careful there, J. Prague's not what it used to be. And have fun in Siberia freezing your ass off, hah._

_Hey, it's a job. Beggars can't be choosers._

_I know Russian! I'd tag along as a translator, but somehow I get the feeling your precious Jethro would take issue with that, chauvinist that he is._

_You be safe too. You made a promise, and I'm holding you to it._

_-A

* * *

_

Jenny sucked in another pained breath as she shifted in the bed, jarring her thigh. "Ouch, dammit." She moved the tray in her lap, glancing over the latest letter from A.J. with a sigh before setting her pen against a fresh sheet of paper.

_A,_

_Kinda wish your words of warning about Prague would've arrived a few days earlier. I took a round to the thigh Tuesday._

_Before you freak out and jump on a trans-Atlantic flight, remember that my cover ID doesn't know anyone from the States, so it'd look weird as hell if you show up here._

_God, A, don't ever get shot. It hurts like hell. Of course, I'm hoping you'll enter some job field that doesn't even mention guns in the description, but I know you well enough to know you'd jump right into a military or law enforcement field just to piss me off._

_I miss home, A. This sucks._

_-J_

_P.S.—Siberia is not as cold as I thought it'd be. Still miss home, though.

* * *

_

_J, _

_You got SHOT?_

_Where the hell was your precious Jethro? He's a Marine, dammit, Marines are supposed to have their partner's six! I'm ramming my foot up his ass the next time I see him, for not having your back._

_Thanks for the warning, but you're a wee bit late on the job front. Got a job as a field agent in the bureau. (Yes, I did it to piss you off. No, I'm not changing jobs. Suck it up.)_

_Miss you too, J. Come home soon, and __**please**__ be safe._

_-A

* * *

_

Jenny braced her hand against the counter, sucking in a pained breath as she slowly shifted her weight to her injured leg.

"Jen, what the hell are you doing?" Jethro walked in the bathroom, lunging forward to catch her as her leg gave out. "Dammit Jen, you can't push these things!" He settled back against the tub on the bathroom floor of their Serbian farmhouse, hugging her to his chest until the waves of pain passed.

"I hate this! I'm not a fucking invalid, Jethro!"

He stroked a hand up and down her arm slowly as he spoke, his voice low and soothing."Never said you were. These things take time. We've got another week and a half here, Jen. It'll heal, just let it pass on its own."

Jenny sighed unhappily, curling her body into his chest. "I miss home, Jethro." Her voice was reedy and weak with pain. "I just want to go home."

"Shh…" Gibbs continued running a soothing hand up and down her arm, gently lulling her back to sleep. "It's okay, Jenny, you're home. Everything's gonna be okay."

His gaze caught the scrap of paper laying on the floor near his knee. He shifted slightly, hooking the edge with his finger and dragging it within viewing range.

"_He's a Marine, dammit, Marines are supposed to have their partner's six!" _ Sad blue eyes read over the letter.

* * *

_A,_

_Er...I don't know your real name; I'm just using the address on Jenny's last letter. _

_You probably don't know me, other than mentions in Jenny's letters. My name is Jethro Gibbs._

_I know you're angry Jenny got hurt. I sure as hell am. I…you were right, what you wrote to her last. I should have had her six. _

_I'm not usually a fan of apologies, but I feel that I owe you one. As far as I can tell, you're the closest thing Jenny has to a best friend. Hell, you probably __**are**__ her best friend._

_I'm sorry. I should've had her back, and now she's hurting because of me._

_I know I should be the last person to be asking you for help, after I got your best friend shot, but I figure you've gotta know her even better than I do, and I'm the one sleeping with her._

_I don't know what she's told you about me, but in case she has, the divorces were the wrong choice in the first place._

_Um, anyways. I, uh…I was wondering what you'd think if I asked Jenny to marry me. I love her, more than anything I've loved before, and I…I don't want to lose her. I…I feel like she's the one, you know?_

_I'm probably an idiot for even thinking of asking, but…I dunno, I figured you might give me some insight._

_Sorry I bothered you._

_-Jethro Gibbs

* * *

_

**_A/n: Uh oh, cliffhanger?_**

**_Don't kill me, please, I thought it best to end this chapter here. It builds nice suspense, for one thing._**

**_A.J. will not stay at the Bureau for long, I assure you. It's a temporary job in order to get her where I want her._**

**_So, that's Chapter 4!_**

**_Reviews are lovely, and help in curing writer's block and stuck-in-my-dorm-room-with-a-concussion boredom issues._**

**_-meg_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/n: Hello there, everybody! Happy Monday :P_**

**_Yes, finally, an update. It's not chronologically relevant to the previous chapter, but it does answer some of your questions, in a way._**

**_This occurs mid-season 3, after Episode 11 'Model Behavior' (After Jenny's haircut)._**

**_Ah...A.J. is a liaison to MI-6 from the CIA still._**

**_Enjoy!

* * *

_**

**_5. A Reunion...of Sorts_**

**_December 10, 2005 (Season 3) Washington D.C._**

"She's running, Boss!" Tony raised his voice to a shout, alerting his partner. He scrambled over the pile of boxes after his quarry, a lanky blonde woman. "In the back alley!"

"Ah, hell." Gibbs turned from his place covering the side entrance of the house, sprinting for the connecting alley leading off of the back of the property. "Stop! Federal Agents!"

The blonde managed a glance over her shoulder, sprinting down the alley, her eyes scanning for a way out. Her gaze landed on a rusted-out dumpster sitting against the alley wall, the fire escape of a small warehouse jutting just a few feet above the lip of the dumpster. With a jump and a push, the suspect scrambled up over the lip of the dumpster, grabbing onto the ladder, already halfway up by the time Tony and Gibbs arrived at the dumpster.

"Son of a bitch." Tony groaned, hunched over. "Fast, dammit. Why are they always so fast? I'm getting too old for this shit."

Gibbs grunted in agreement, leaning over, his hands against his knees. He scrabbled at his belt, pulling out his cell phone. "Ma-Gee."

"_Yeah, Boss?"_

"We lost her. Run that trace thing on her phone."

"_You want me to track the GPS in her phone?"_

"Yeah, that."

"_On it, Boss."_ The sounds of rapid typing traveled through the phone. _"Uh, Boss?"_

"What, McGee?"

"_Er…her phone's GPS places it within 20 feet of where you're standing."_

Tony was already searching the ground around them. He let out a low groan and held up a small phone. "She ditched it, Boss."

"Ah, hell." He hung up the phone abruptly, scowling. "Damn it."

"Uh...maybe we should head back to the house and see if we can find something?"

"We came without a warrant, DiNozzo."

"Oh, yeah. Right." The agent scratched his spiky hair, frowning. "We, uh…couldn't you wrangle enough for a warrant out of the Director? Ya know, 'cause you two are like…close and…shutting up now Boss."

"C'mon, DiNozzo." Gibbs sighed heavily, heading back down the alley towards the car.

* * *

"Agent Gibbs." The clipped tones of NCIS Director Jenny Shepard stopped Gibbs in his tracks as he breezed into the bullpen with a cup of coffee in his hands.

He tilted his head to the side, taking a sip of coffee. "Madame Director."

"Any particular reason why you and Agent DiNozzo thought it prudent to try and search our prime suspect's residence without a warrant?"

Gibbs groaned mentally. "Playin' Agent again, Director?"

Shepard's eyes flashed in irritation. "You seem to frequently forget, Agent Gibbs, that this is _my_ agency. I can and will look into any case I see fit."

"Oh, and they all just so happen to be cases _my team_ investigates?" He winced internally as he completed his statement, seeing the flash of rage in Jenny's eyes.

"My office, _now_."

Gibbs followed her up the stairs to the catwalk with heavy feet, strangely reluctant to get into one of their usual arguments. This case had been bugging him from the start. It was too…he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about this case wasn't right. They were already having enough trouble with the case; he didn't need an argument now.

He followed her through into the office, for once standing silently to the side as she slammed the door closed, rounding on him with fury in her eyes.

"What the _hell_ is your problem? You don't countermand me in the middle of the bullpen and talk down to me in front of junior agents!"

Gibbs swallowed sharply, staring down at the coffee cup in his hands. "I know. I was out of line."

"You can't just go off all hair trigger and do whatever the hell you want all the ti—wait, what?" Jenny stopped abruptly in the middle of her rant, staring at him confusedly. "What did you just say?"

He grimaced faintly, raising his gaze to meet hers. "I said I was out of line. I shouldn't have said that."

"I…" She paused, frowning sharply as she walked over to her desk, making a show of checking the date on the calendar. She then closed her eyes tightly, rubbed a hand over her face and opened them. "I'm sorry, did you just apologize? 'Cause it's not April Fools and I'm not dreaming, so I'd like to clarify."

He sighed and nodded rather jerkily. "I…I wasn't trying to countermand you, I was just pissed 'cause nothing seems right with this case and it feels like we're being played." He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. "This really hasn't been a good day. Can we, uh…can we try this again, without the yelling?"

"Alright, then. Can you tell me why you and DiNozzo thought it was such a good idea to go to the suspect's house without a warrant?"

Gibbs winced, shifting on his feet and looking slightly like a guilty child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Collins isn't exactly a suspect. Hell, I don't even know if we have one. We figured if we could maybe talk to him, but instead we run into a blonde woman who took off as soon as we knocked on the door."

"Uh huh. So…we have a case that doesn't make sense, a suspect that isn't really a suspect, and a mysterious blonde woman who ran when you attempted to trick her into a questioning?"

He glanced at the ground, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Er…yeah, that about sums it up."

"Mmmhmm." Jenny made her way over to her desk, her back turned to her former lover. "And then you just decided it was a good idea to pick a fight with me because you're pissed that you've got no leads and a case that's going nowhere."

"That'd be the gist of it, yeah." Gibbs eyed her warily, watching as she sat, pulling her reading glasses and a file in front of her.

"And you're sure there's not something you're missing about this case?"

"I've looked at it from every angle I can think of."

"Hm." She seemed disinterested, her gaze focused on the file in front of her, a pen marking a few things off before scrawling her signature with a flourish at the bottom.

"So…" The silence had evidently made him uncomfortable as he cleared his throat, trying to catch the redhead's attention.

"You can go. Keep me updated on the case."

Gibbs blinked at the clear dismissal, his brow furrowing. After a moment's hesitation, he turned to leave. His hand was on the doorknob when she spoke again.

"Jethro."

"Yeah?"

"You ever countermand me like that again, and you'll be searching for a new job. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

* * *

"Boss! I think we found that blonde chick." DiNozzo's jubilant voice rang out as soon as Gibbs appeared on the catwalk.

"Whaddaya got, DiNozzo?"

"Anne Jackson, Boss. Sometime girlfriend of Collins. Got her with a credit card tracking account that links her account and Collins." Tony waved imperiously to McGee, waiting for the techie to pull the pertinent info up on the plasma. "See?"

Gibbs stared at the blonde woman pictured on screen, his coffee gripped in his hands. The piercing blue-grey eyes staring out of the picture brought on a nagging memory in the back of his mind. The woman looked so familiar, yet not at all. "Anything else, DiNozzo?"

"Other than that cell number we already ran, nothing. Probie's got some computer tracker thing running to see if she uses that credit card again, we might find her that wa-." The beeping of McGee's computer cut Tony off mid-sentence.

"Boss, she's using the card right now." The probationary agent typed rapidly as he spoke, pulling up a map on screen with a blinking indicator in the middle. "Georgetown Promenade. She's getting lunch at a restaurant."

"Grab your gear. McGee, transfer that thing to Abs, see if she can track that phone too."

"On it, Boss!"

* * *

"Boss, I don't think it'd be a good idea for you and me to go in there."

"And why is that, DiNozzo?"

"Well, uh, for one thing, she saw us this morning."

"We could send someone in undercover, Gibbs. Try and get close to her as a patron of the restaurant, then take her into custody." Ziva spoke up helpfully from her position in the backseat, calmly cleaning her knife.

Gibbs sighed, scowling at the storefront. "McGee."

"Y—yeah, Boss?"

"Ditch the earwig, keep the mic. You're going in. Find her, get close, and lure her out here."

"On it, Boss." McGee scrambled out of the car, straightening his jacket nervously.

"McGee!"

He spun back towards the car, giving Ziva a quizzical look as she stepped out and moved up to him. "Er…Ziva?"

The Israeli smirked, deftly reaching out and shifting his SIG's holster to the small of his back. "You cannot go in there visibly armed, Tim." Slim fingers plucked the badge from his belt, settling it in the pocket of his jacket. "There. Perfect. Now, go."

"Thanks."

The scratchy sounds of wind traveling past McGee's tactical mike resounded throughout the car for a few long moments, before a muffled voice spoke up.

"_Good afternoon, sir. Will you be dining with us today?"_

McGee spoke next, his voice sounding tinny through the mic. "Yes. Table for two please, under the name Thom E. Gemcity."

"_Ah, Mr. Gemcity! Right this way, sir."_

Tony raised his eyebrows at the almost simpering tone from the maitre' d. "Is it just me, or is Probie getting some preferential treatment?"

_Whack._

"Thank you Boss. Shutting up now."

* * *

"_Here we are, Mr. Gemcity. If there's anything we can get you, don't hesitate to ask."_

McGee muttered vaguely in agreement, opening the menu in front of him. He lowered his voice to a dull murmur, speaking into his wrist mic while under the pretense of scratching his forehead. "I'm in, Boss. Got a decent view of the restaurant. The woman is eating by herself."

He gave the menu a cursory glance, keeping the blonde in the corner of his vision. When she stood and headed for the restrooms, just past his table, he stood to make his move.

_Thump. _"Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am, didn't see you there."

Amused blue-grey eyes stared back up at him as he offered a hand. "Such a gentleman, leaping to assist the fallen lady."

McGee smiled in reply, taking her hand. "Who said anything about a lady?"

She grinned as he pulled her to her feet, winking. "Gotta be some reason you can't keep your eyes off of me."

He flushed faintly. "I, er…"

"Relax. It's kind of flattering, to tell the truth. I just got out of a sort of relationship. It's good to know I can still catch some eyes. What's your name?"

"Thom."

"Nice to meet you, Tom." She patted the lapel of his jacket lightly, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. "I'm Anne. You, uh, wanna get out of this stuffy place and go get some coffee, Tom?"

McGee's face creased in an easy smile. "Sure thing, Anne." He followed her easily through the restaurant, leaving a twenty behind on his table to pay. "So, any place in particular you have in mind?"

Anne glanced sideways at him as they walked along, shrugging. "Oh, wherever's fine."

"Huh." McGee nodded faintly, almost feeling sorry for what he was about to do. "Listen, Anne…" He lagged back, letting her get a few steps ahead."

"What's wrong, Tom?" She turned halfway, her head tilted inquisitively.

"I'm going to have to take you into custody, Ms. Jackson." McGee pulled his SIG smoothly, catching her off guard. "Federal Agent, NCIS."

Anne's eyes flashed in surprise and the slightest bit of anger before she gave him a sad smile. "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible, Tom."

Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva were converging on them from the side, and McGee felt he had the upper hand, holding the gun. "I'm going to ask you to come quietly, Ms. Jackson."

She shook her head, grey eyes darting around before fixing on him again with the same sad smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm sorry, Tom."

The next minute moved as a blur. Anne drew a previously hidden knife from her belt, flicking it at McGee almost lazily. She turned and ran, using a MetroBus bench and a newsstand to avoid the gunfire from the NCIS team.

"Dammit, she's running again!" Gibbs holstered his gun and sprinted after Jackson, shunting his way through the lunchtime crowds the woman was using to lose the Agents.

Ziva caught up with her just outside a small shop, lunging forward in a tackle that brought both women down to the ground. She attempted to get a restraining hold on her, yelping in surprise when Anne flipped her away, vaulting to her feet. "Oh no you don't!"

She sprinted after the blonde again, both heading for the entrance to the Metro system. A yell of pain from Tony evidenced that he too had run into the blonde and come out the worse for it, holding his hand over a copiously bleeding nose. "Gibbs, over here! She's heading for the Metro!"

The silver haired agent was the next to catch up with the woman, barely reaching out to grasp her upper arm, flinging her around and to the ground. Anne immediately kicked out with her leg, sweeping a kick across his bad knee, knocking his legs out from under him. Gibbs hit the ground with a grunt, already turning over to try and wrestle her back to the ground. She regained her feet only to be bulled over in a vicious tackle from Tony, slamming hard into a park bench, where she slumped, unconscious.

Tony got to his feet, still swearing under his breath as he probed at his nose, a scowl firmly set on his face. "Bitch broke my damn nose."

Gibbs sucked in a breath, getting to his feet rather unsteadily as Ziva secured Jackson with cuffs. "Where's McGee?"

"Knife hit him in the shoulder, Boss, he was back a ways."

"Right here, Boss." McGee spoke rather tightly, his face pale with pain. He held a hand to his left shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood. "Didn't quite duck fast enough, sliced my shoulder open. Thought I had her, Boss. Didn't see the knife."

"Siddown, McGee, before ya pass out." Gibbs bit back a stream of curses as he tried to put weight on his knee, the injury protesting the movement vehemently. "Ziver, call Duck."

"Are you sure, Gibbs? She may need a hospital."

"Wasn't aware I asked a question, David. Pretty sure I made an order."

"Yes, Gibbs." Ziva stepped away, calling the ME.

* * *

"My goodness, Jethro. Can't you ever go out to get a suspect without getting injured in some way?"

"Ah, save it, Duck." He glanced over to where McGee sat, his shoulder wrapped in gauze padding. "McGee alright?"

"Merely a scratch. No muscle damage, the knife sliced across his shoulder and continued on its way. Seven stitches, he'll be right as rain in no time."

Gibbs grunted in agreement. "What about our perp?"

"Mr. Palmer said she responded well to his field concussion test, she's just a wee bit shook up from Anthony's tackle. I didn't personally check her over, I was preoccupied with Timothy. Anthony and Ziva took her to the interrogation room."

"Thanks, Duck. Keep an eye on McGee, will ya?" He hopped gingerly down from the table, testing the support brace before limping away towards the elevator.

* * *

"Alright, you wanna tell me why you've tried to run twice now, Ms. Jackson?"

The blonde smirked halfheartedly, drumming her fingers on the table. "Haven't been charged with anything, Agent Gibbs. Don't need to talk."

"How about assault of a Federal Agent?"

She went to shrug and stopped halfway, her face tightening in what looked like pain. "Self defense. He pulled a gun on me, I didn't see any badge."

"And this morning?"

She remained silent at that, merely fidgeting with the handcuffs.

"You going to give me some answers here, Ms. Jackson?"

Another repressed shrug, with a sharper flicker of pain across her face.

"David, come print her."

"You haven't read me my rights, Agent Gibbs."

"You assaulted an undercover Federal Agent. I don't have to."

At that, the woman finally glanced up and met his gaze, giving him a cryptic half smile. "Oh, really? And what if I told you I was an undercover federal agent?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, glaring at her.

"Print me. See what comes up. You're in over your head, Agent Gibbs."

* * *

It seemed that their suspect's ominous prediction had been right. They _were_ in over their heads.

"Gibbs, she's like…hardcore UC. Like…erase all traces of family, you don't exist anymore hardcore."

"Yeah, Abs?"

"All I've got is a bunch of blocked access, Gibbs. Redacted case files, liaison with multiple agencies... She's 28. Must work deep cover for one of our agencies. Dual citizenship in Britain and the US. Timmy and I are working our hardest, but this might take a while."

A klaxon like alarm stopped the forensic scientist in the middle of her rant. McGee, who had been sitting at her workstation typing one-handed, pumped his fist in the air with a happy exclamation. "Yes! Got it, Boss."

A new file opened on-screen. "Oh boy..."

* * *

The door to interrogation slammed open. To her credit, A.J. Shepard didn't so much as flinch. Calm grey eyes stayed focused on her handcuffed wrists. "Come to release me, Agent Gibbs?"

"That depends, _A.J._ You gonna explain to me how in the hell MI-6 got tangled up in my investigation?"

Oooh, busted. A.J. winced, her eyebrows contracting in a frown. "You've got higher clearance than I thought you did."

He seemed amused at that. "Yeah, we can call it that. You gonna give me a good reason as to why I shouldn't be upstairs asking Director Shepard why her little sister is a suspect in our murder investigation?"

The blonde paled instantly. "Whoa, wait, what? Director who?"

"NCIS Director Jenny Shepard. According to your _non-redacted_ file, she's your elder sister."

"Oh, bugger." She seemed agitated, fiddling with her cuffs. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"Noo…she won't until the case is solved."

"I know who killed your Marine. Collins used him as a low-level mule in the organization MI-6 and fifteen other agencies are investigating. I'll give you the name, but you have to get me out of here before she finds out I'm here."

"What?"

"Director Shepard _can't_ know I'm here, do you understand me?" Wild, desperate grey eyes locked with his.

His phone ringing interrupted the conversation. "DiNozzo, you better have a _damn_ good reason for breaking rule 22."

"_Boss…we couldn't…she's on her way, Boss."_

"Who, DiNozzo?"

"_Director Shepard."_

A.J. paled even further, twisting her wrists and shrugging out of the cuffs easily. "Shit. Gibbs, you have to believe me. I didn't kill Collins; he was part of my cover to get in to this organization. I've got to get out of here, now."

"What the…"

The door to interrogation slammed open again, revealing one redheaded Director Jenny Shepard, her green eyes glinting with fury. "What part of 'keep me informed' didn't you get, Agent Gibbs?"

He froze, glancing between the sisters with something akin to a panicked look on his face. "Er…"

Jenny followed his gaze, stopping dead when her eyes landed on the blonde sitting on the other side of the table. "A.J.?"

A.J. grit her teeth into a vague facsimile of a smile, crossing her arms. "Jenny. Long time, no see."

"What the hell is going on?"

She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, rubbing a hand down her face. "Ah…collision of investigation with a long running undercover op. Nothing to worry your little bureaucratic head about."

"_Excuse me?_"

"I'm fully willing to cooperate with your Agent Gibbs to complete his investigation. Therefore, no need for a jurisdictional pissing match. Ergo, no need for you to be here."

"I haven't seen you in four goddamn years, and you want to tell me to butt out?"

"That'd be the gist of it, yes."

"No. You tell me what the fuck is going on here."

"See, I'm pretty sure I can't, 'cause I'm almost positive that even though your little five point bullshit got you to this position, and even though you've got twice the clearance Gibbs-ey here has, you still don't have half of what's needed to be read in on this op. Suffice to say, it's a long-term sting op, of which your dead Marine was an unfortunate casualty. I didn't kill him, although I was using him as an 'in' to get into the organization we're investigating. I'll give you the name of the goon, who killed him, and then I go on my merry way to continue the op and NCIS forgets that this ever happened."

"The hell we will! You read me into this op, _now_."

"Nope."

Gibbs was at a loss for words. Five feet, eight and a half inches of furious emerald eyed redheaded Director stood off against five foot eleven inches of blue-grey eyed blonde haired deep-cover Agent, with no clear victor in sight. Jenny stood forward in an aggressive stance, her fists clenched by her side, while A.J. seemed more casually relaxed, her arms folded across her chest in a semi-defensive pose, the caged tension evident in her muscles.

"Dammit, A.J."

A.J. shook her head slowly, holding her defensive position. "'S not your battle to be fought, Red. It's not your op, and NCIS isn't going to be read in to satisfy your curiosity. I've told you what you need to know and what needs to happen."

"You can't just…"

She gave an exasperated sigh, turning to Gibbs "Look. Dmitri Zavlov, that's who you want. Mid-level thug, hired goon and killer. He shot your Marine. Collins isn't a part of it, nor am I."

He narrowed his eyes at her, reluctant to be pulled into the sisters' feud. "You got evidence to back that up?"

"That flash drive your Agent ganked from my pocket. Video surveillance of the warehouse your Marine was killed in. All the evidence you need to convict Zavlov."

Gibbs nodded sharply, standing as he took his file folders with him. "You're free to go, Ms…ah…"

She smirked sadly. "A.J. is fine, Agent Gibbs."

"She's not free to go!" Jenny gave him an incredulous look.

"Yeah she is. There's no hard evidence connecting her to the case. Abs checked the flash drive. She's in the clear. Whatever quarrel you have, that's your deal, but I've got nothing more I need from her." He continued gathering his files with his head ducked, turning to leave. "Thank you, A.J."

"No prob, G-Man." A.J. smirked slightly, moving to follow Gibbs out the door. "I'll just go out the front door, shall I?"

"A.J…." Jenny sighed heavily. "Can't we talk?"

She watched as A.J. paused in the doorway, her shoulders stiffening in an automatic defensive reaction. "I'd rather not, actually, but you seem to enjoy pushing things you have no concern in, so I guess we have to."

Jenny took the concession for what it was, stepping up and putting a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder, green eyes cataloguing the grimace of pain that flickered across the blonde's face. "Why don't we take this to my office?"

"Again, I'd rather not, but you're the one trying to pull all the strings here, so we might as well." A.J.'s voice was undeniably bitter as she moved forward, pushing Jenny's hand off her shoulder. "Well, are ya gonna move or just stand there staring?"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me that you were back in the States, A.J.?" Jenny shut her office door with a decisive click, turning to face her sister.

A.J. leaned against the conference table, the tension still evident in her wary posture. She glanced up, meeting Jenny's gaze for a moment as she smirked sadly. "Well…and this is just a theory, mind you, but maybe I didn't want you to know I was here, Jen."

"What happened?"

"You made a choice."

"I had to, to get where I am."

"Yeah, and how's that serving you? I saw your precious 'Jethro' down there; he looked considerably less than thrilled to be around you. I told you that damn five point plan of yours was going to leave you alone up top. Looks as if I'm right, dunnit?"

"I-." Jenny was at a loss for words, gaping at her sister. Despite nearly five years with no contact whatsoever, A.J. had again proved her uncanny ability to cut right to the truth Jenny had been avoiding since she started as Director.

"Nice haircut, by the way. I'm assuming it's a compensation for the fact that you're the only female in a male dominated field?" A.J. tapped her temple with a finger, indicating Jenny's short pixie cut. "'S too bad you've got no one to go home to, eh? I'm sure it'd give a guy quite the power trip, but then again, you did always like to be on top, didn't you?"

Abruptly, Jenny's speechlessness disappeared, replaced by the flickering of a towering fit of anger. "How _dare_ you."

"How dare I what? Tell the truth? Gee, I'm sorry; I'll make sure to lie next time."

The sound of a slap resounded through Jenny's office. Jenny stood a mere six inches from her sister, her hand raised.

A.J. rubbed her jaw ruefully, frowning. "So we're back to our old argument, then. You don't want to hear the truth; you'd rather live in your perfect little idealized world. Well, let me tell ya something, J. You ended up exactly where I told you that you would four years ago. You've got your damn job, you've broken the glass ceiling, but for what? You've got nobody to come home to, Red. You gave up your Prince Charming for a fucking job. I may not be one for relationships and true love and all that bull, but I know what I'm talking about. You can't always get what you want, Jen." She reached out and grabbed Jenny's hand tightly around the wrist, preventing another slap. "I told you that if you continued with this, you weren't going to like the result."

"Let me go."

"As you wish. I'll be going." A.J. stood to her full height, brushing past the redhead.

"A.J."

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"You're not disappearing again, are you?"

A half shrug. "Dunno. Depends on whether or not my cover held up."

"I'm sorry." The quiet admission surprised Jenny herself.

"Yeah, I am too. I'll keep in contact, Jen. Bye."

* * *

"Er…Agent Gibbs?"

He looked up, surprised to see A.J. Shepard standing in front of his desk.

"Yeah?"

"I kinda need my stuff back."

He stood, heading for the elevator. "With me."

A.J. followed quietly, slipping in the elevator doors after him.

Gibbs reached out after a pause, slapping the elevator stop, turning to stare at the blonde.

Inexplicably, her lips twitched upwards in a slight smile. "So that's where Jen learned it."

"What?"

"She used this on me a few times to try and get info." She sighed slightly, leaning back against the cool wall of the elevator, regarding him with a cool look. "What do you want to know?"

"You're Jenny's little sister?"

"I wouldn't say little, I'm taller by two and a half inches and weigh a bit more, but, yes."

"You're the A.J. she was writing to while we were undercover in Europe."

A.J. tilted her head to the side, nodding slowly. "She told you I was a friend, I assume?"

He nodded.

"Mmmhmm. We figured it'd be safer if your mail was intercepted to pretend I was a friend, not family."

"And now you're a UC Operative for MI-6?"

"Liaison. I work for the Agency, currently. It just so happens that MI-6 and the Agency are running concurrent investigations. I'm not a fan of interagency politics, but I'm apparently good enough at them that I merit a liaison position."

"And you and Jen haven't talked for four years?"

"Her fault, not mine. I think that's enough fishing for now, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs smirked in response, tilting his head in a nod. "Jethro."

"Alright then, Jethro. May I get my things, now?"

"They're with Abby." He reached out and hit the stop, letting the elevator resume its journey.

A.J. followed him out as the doors opened on Abby's floor, the sound of pounding music pulsing out of the room.

"Abs!" Gibbs leaned over and turned the music off, raising his voice slightly.

"Bossman!" The bubbly forensic scientist ran over and enveloped him in a tight hug. "You brought me a visitor! Timmy, come say hello, we have a visitor."

McGee smiled wryly. "I already know her, Abby."

Abby frowned, glancing between the blonde and McGee. "What?"

A.J. inclined her head in a polite nod to McGee. "The name's A.J. Sorry about the shoulder. I had to try and keep up my cover."

McGee lifted his good shoulder in a half shrug. "No big deal. Tim McGee."

"Nice to meet you, Tim." A.J. turned to Gibbs, raising a slightly quizzical eyebrow. "I'm assuming this is the Abby of whom you spoke?" She gestured to the Goth.

Abby gasped. "You're the Director's sister!" She lunged forward, trapping the MI-6 liaison in a tight hug.

"You're choking her, Abs. We just came to get her things."

"Right! You know, I hacked the video surveillance of the Promenade. You're a really awesome fighter! Especially taking down Gibbs like that, though I think you used his weakness against him, which is kinda not fair. And Tony's really mad that you broke his nose, though I think he's more jealous that you were totally flirting with Timmy an—mmph." The forensic scientist's ramble was cut off as Gibbs reached over, covering her mouth with a hand.

"Her things, Abs."

Abby nodded mutely, dragging a box sitting on the evidence table towards her. "Personal effects of one A.J. Shepard. One Fossil watch, silver, lightly used. One empty knife holster. One wallet, with driver's license and credit cards for Anna Jackson, along with six dollars and eighty six cents in minted money. One gunmetal Zippo lighter, three quarters full, with the Army insignia and Col. J Shepard engraved on the back. One cell phone, disabled. One pack of cigarettes, with two missing." She handed the pile of things over to the UC Operative, frowning and tapping the last item. "Smoking's bad for you, you know."

A.J.'s lips twitched in a slightly melancholy smile. "Blame your precious Director, she got me started."

"The Director smokes?" Abby scowled, stomping over to her computer and typing rapidly. "I'm going to go give her my pamphlet discussing the dangers of smoking. Mommy's too pretty to die from lung cancer."

A.J. followed a smirking Gibbs back out of the lab, Abby's rant on smoking fading away behind them as they entered the elevator. "Mommy?"

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. "She's perceptive. Must've figured out that Jenny and I have some sort of a past relationship."

"Ah, so that makes you Daddy. Funny, how close to the mark she is, seeing as you were engaged."

Gibbs shrugged uncomfortably, his hand snapping out to shut off the elevator again.

"We playing twenty questions again, Jethro?"

"She doesn't know I was going to propose. She left the day I was going to."

"Ah. That explains a lot." A.J. eyed him shrewdly. "You ever tell her?"

"No."

"You ever going to?"

He shrugged. "I already tried starting things between us again, she said no."

"Ah, but was it the 'I really mean yes' no, or a 'no' no?"

"I don't know."

A.J. smiled sadly. "You might want to find out. She deserves to be happy, at the very least."

"Why aren't you protecting her?"

"Because I know why she really left, and I think she's an idiot."

"She left because she didn't want to become the ex-Mrs. Gibbs."

"No she didn't."

He stepped closer, crowding into her personal space. "Then you gonna tell me why she _did_ leave?"

"No, that's for you to ask her. Getting up in my space isn't going to get you anywhere, Jethro. I'm not my sister, nor will I ever be. You wanna know why she left, you ask her."

"And who's to say she won't lie?"

"Catch her when she's vulnerable. She's more likely to tell the truth when she's upset. Consequently, she's upset right now, because I'm ridiculously good at pushing her buttons. I'd go talk now; before she puts all those ridiculous walls back up."

He stepped back, restarting the elevator and hitting the button adjacent to the one already lit. "Why are you doing this? You two sounded like you hated each other down there."

A.J. shrugged uncomfortably, a sad look flickering in her eyes. "I may not like her life choices, but that doesn't mean I don't think she still deserves the chance to be happy."

"And who's to say that I still make her happy?"

"You do realize she hasn't dated since you two split, right?"

"I—no."

"Exactly." A.J. gave him a small half-smile, reaching out to pat his shoulder as the doors opened to the bullpen. "Good luck."

* * *

The silver door flew open, banging sharply against the wall as it announced the arrival of the silver haired agent.

"Jethro, I'm really not in the mood. If you've come to argue, do it tomorrow."

"Didn't come to argue. Came to talk." He dragged a chair over from the conference table, plopping down in front of her desk.

"Talk? About what?"

"Paris."

Jenny winced, shaking her head. "Jethro…what's done is done. Not tonight."

"Yes, tonight. I wanna know why you left, really."

"We can't do this!"

He lunged forward, slamming his hands down on her desk. "Yes we can, and we will. I want the truth, Jenny."

"No!"

"Your sister says you didn't leave because you thought you'd end up as the third ex-Mrs. Gibbs, which is the line of bull you fed me, so I'd like a truthful reason, please."

"I—I had to." She looked down at her desk.

"_Why?"_

"I left for the job. I had to do what was best for me, I still do."

"Did you know I was going to propose?"

"I—what?" Jenny looked up at him, shell-shocked.

"I was. Wrote to A.J., asked for her permission, bought the ring, everything."

"I—I but, you…you were still hiding things from me!"

"Yeah, and I was planning on sitting down that night and telling you everything, once we got back to D.C. You left me on the plane, and the rest is history."

"Y—you were going to propose?"

He nodded slowly, a flicker of something passing through his eyes. "After I told you the full truth, yes."

"What do you mean the full truth?"

"I've been married four times, divorced three."

"I…what?"

Jethro smiled sadly, pulling out his wallet and removing a well creased picture hidden in the recesses. "My first wife, Shannon, and my daughter, Kelly."

Jenny took the picture as he handed it over, staring down at the smiling faces in the picture. "I…"

"We married after I joined the Marines; Kelly was born a couple of years later. I got called up to serve in Desert Storm, in Kuwait. Shannon witnessed a murder while I was away; she and Kelly were put into protective custody by NCIS, which was NIS then. The murderer put out a hit on her; they were killed in a car crash when the NIS agent driving was shot in the head." He swallowed heavily, staring at the picture in her hands with a hollow look in his eyes. "I came back from Kuwait injured, joined NIS six months later. I was going to tell you, give you the full truth behind my life before I proposed, and then you left." He stood up, walking to the door.

"I'm sorry, Jen."

* * *

**_A/n: Yes, I'm mean, another cliffhanger. This is where the story goes AU, in case you hadn't figured that out._**

**_Wow, this one was long. eh, oh well._**

**_So, ah, the next chapter is on its way, and it will be connected to this one. (sort of)_**

**_Reviews are lovely. And I like them._**

**_-meg_**


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/n: Here's Chapter 6! It continues on almost directly from Ch. 5. _**

**_This is about the time where everything goes AU..._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrow them for stories...

* * *

_**

**6. The Prestige**

"_Are you watching closely?"_

**December 10, 2005 (Season 3) **

Jenny stared at the closed door of her office long after he left, silent tears running down her face.

_He had a family, all this time, and he never told me. Serves him right that I left._ The snide little voice in her head had a rather annoying habit of sounding _exactly_ like her younger sister.

_But he said he was going to propose. He really loved me!_ She could hear another one, too. It faintly reminded her of her twenty-something idealized younger self.

_Yeah, __**loved**__. Past tense, Red. I was right. You mucked things up._

That was it. She needed to talk to A.J.

* * *

"Director Shepard!" Abby looked up from her computer, surprised. "I, uh…I didn't know you were still here." A sudden glint appeared in the forensic scientist's eyes. "Actually, I'm glad you came. I have something for you."

A rather large stack of computer printouts were shoved into the redhead's hands. "Abby…what?"

"Smoking's really, really bad for you, Director. I just figured I'd show you what you'll end up doing to yourself! Mommy's too pretty to die of lung cancer."

"Abby…I can't…not right now. I need my sister's cell phone number."

Abby tilted her head quizzically. "You don't have it?"

"…No. We…we don't talk often. I need that number now, Abby."

"Yes ma'am." She turned around, typing a short query into the computer. "There it is, but she disabled the phone, I doubt she'll actually pick up…and, you're not here anymore. Of course she's gone, she learned from Gibbs." The Goth shook her head at the stuffed hippo sitting on the console next to her, having noticed that Jenny disappeared halfway into her rant. "Sometimes, I think they're not really listening, you know?"

_Prrrrrpp._

"Well of course I know you listen, Bert! You're my best friend!"

_Prrrpp Fthhht._

"Yeah, I think so too. Daddy really does need to fix things with Mommy, doesn't he?"

_Prpp.

* * *

_

A.J. stepped out of the taxi, staring up at the apartment building in front of her. Probably the only perk to her long term undercover status, the nice digs offered as compensation by the Agency. Too bad she was never really home.

The ringing of her cell cut through the relative silence in the elevator as she rode it to the top floor. "Hello?"

"_A.J.?"_

"What part of _I_ will keep in contact didn't you get, Jen?"

Jenny sounded as if she were crying._ "A.J….please, I need to talk to you."_

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, sighing. "Alright. 418 Oxford Dr. I'm in one of the top floor suites. Number 909."

* * *

Jenny frowned at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator, sniffing and rubbing light fingers under her eyes. Damn crying, made her look like hell. She exited the elevator at the top floor, walking down until she reached number 909. She raised her hand to knock, quietly.

A.J. answered the door, in a t-shirt and jeans. "Hey."

Jenny sniffed and managed a watery looking smile. "Hey."

The blonde sighed heavily, pulling the redhead into the apartment. "C'mon, you look like death warmed up."

Jenny followed A.J. aimlessly to the living room, sinking down onto the couch the blonde directed her towards.

"You still take a shot of Jack in yours?" A steaming mug of hot chocolate made its way into her field of vision.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you still take a shot of Jack in yours, J." A.J. spoke patiently, wiggling the bottle of bourbon in her hand.

"I—I no, no bourbon. I can't handle it right now."

"Suit yourself." The blonde sank down on a lounge chair with her own mug of hot chocolate. "So. What's wrong? I know you weren't crying when I left you, so something happened in between then and now that made you upset."

"I…" Jenny took a deep breath, glancing up and meeting her sister's gaze squarely. "You know back in London, when you said I was going to get up to the top and end up all alone?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, today's the day you get to say I told you so."

A.J. smiled faintly, shaking her head. "Today, I don't want to….but I did bloody tell you."

The redhead laughed weakly, leaning forward and whacking the closest part of A.J. she could reach, her foot. "Jerk."

"So, what has prompted this rare admission? You're not normally one to admit you're wrong."

"Jethro talked to me."

A.J. paused halfway to lifting her cup to her lips, shutting her mouth with an audible click of teeth. "Ah. Right."

"You want to tell me why he seemed to have so much information on our split that he shouldn't have?"

"Er…"

Jenny sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Nevermind. It's not relevant. He told me he was planning on proposing the day I left him. You knew?"

A.J. winced sharply. "Look, Jen…he wrote me after you got shot in Prague, asked if it was alright if he proposed. I said I didn't see a problem with it. He asked that I keep it a secret until he had time to get things together. By the time I was clear to tell you, you'd already left him for the job. I figured it'd be better to leave well enough alone."

"And then six months later, we stopped talking to each other altogether, and you had no reason at all to tell me."

"Yeah, that's about right."

Jenny sipped her hot chocolate, staring off into space. "I really…I don't know what to do."

"About what?"

"Jethro…he…he came in an asked about Paris and then he told me he was going to propose when I left and then he…" She trailed off, taking another sip of hot chocolate. "I think I want that bourbon now, before I talk about this."

"Fair enough." A.J. leaned over, pouring a small shot of bourbon into the mug. "Better?"

Jenny took a few drinks, wincing slightly. "Getting there."

"Now then, what is it that he told you that's got you all upset?"

The redhead fiddled in her pocket, withdrawing a battered and worn picture, leaning over to hand it to her sister.

A.J. raised her eyebrows at the picture, glancing up at her sister. "Cute kid."

"She has his eyes."

"I'm to assume you didn't know he had a kid at some point, then?"

She shook her head slowly, her gaze still focused on the mug in her hands. "His first wife, Shannon, and their daughter Kelly. They met before he joined the Corps, got married, and Kelly was born a few years later. Jethro got called up to serve in Kuwait during Desert Storm. Shannon witnessed a murder; NCIS put them into protective custody."

A.J. sucked in a pained breath. She could see where this was going.

Jenny took a deep breath and continued. "Shannon and Kelly Gibbs were killed in February of 1991. The NCIS Agent driving them was shot in the head, the crash killed Shannon and Kelly. Jethro got the news in Kuwait, ended up coming home injured in a mortar attack. He joined NCIS six months later, and the rest is history."

"Jesus."

"He was planning on telling me that the day I left. He was going to tell me the full truth about his life, and propose. And I left him for a goddamn job."

"Jen…"

"No, don't start. God, I can't even begin to think how much I hate myself right now."

"Hey, no, listen to me." The blonde frowned at the melancholy tone in her sister's voice. "Yeah, so your timing could use some serious work, and…ah, bugger, there's no way to twist this in a positive light. Dammit, Jen, why'd you leave?"

"I—I thought I was just going to end up another ex-wife, and then Morrow made the job offer for the lead in Cairo, and…"

"So you're a closet commitment-phobe? Jen, it's a simple fix. Go back to Jethro, apologize."

"Simple, maybe, but definitely not easy. Jethro has a rule about apologies."

"Yet he loves you enough to tell you the one thing he keeps hidden from everyone."

"You really think he…" Jenny trailed off at the knowing look the blonde shot her. "Right."

A.J. contemplated her mug in silence for a while, letting Jenny think, before she spoke up. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I—I don't know." Jenny stared off into space, fidgeting with her empty mug.

"Jen, listen to me. I know I'm not the best example for relationships, nor will I ever be, but…look, J, he's the best thing that ever happened to you, you said it yourself. If he was prepared to propose, and if he came to you tonight and told you the full truth about his life, then he honestly, truthfully loves you, Jenny. You've got a chance to be happy. I'd take it."

"Who's to say he makes me happy?"

"Jen…you haven't dated anyone since you left him, despite numerous advances by some savory and not so savory guys."

"I…what if he says no?"

The blonde shrugged, giving her sister an unreadable look."You're not gonna find out either way sitting here, J."

* * *

Jethro Gibbs sanded the boat methodically, a half-empty bottle of bourbon sitting on the planking by his head. The talk with Jenny had taken quite a bit more out of him than he thought.

The sound of the floorboards on the first floor of the house creaking brought him out of his silent musings. He looked up, meeting the emerald eyes of his houseguest. "Jen."

She smiled faintly, walking slowly down the basement stairs. "I…I thought you might want your picture back. I know they mean a lot to you."

He nodded, reaching out to take the picture from her outstretched hand.

The silence permeated the basement for a while, until Jenny cleared her throat. "I—I also came to talk."

"So talk." Gibbs had returned to his sanding, barely turning his head to the side to answer.

"I…typically talking involves two people, Jethro."

"Not necessarily."

Jenny sucked in a breath, moving over to sit on the tool bench. "I want to talk about Paris."

The sanding stopped abruptly, his shoulders slumping. "Jen…we don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do."

He set the block down on the boat, whirling around to face her, his blue eyes flashing in anger. "Why the hell do we _need_ to talk about it now when you avoided the subject like it's got the damn plague earlier? If you've come to apologize, I don't want to hear it. You're upset 'cause you found out that my existence up to this point has been just the slightest bit more depressing, and you think you need to apologize for leaving. I don't wanna hear it."

"So the fact that you had a family, a daughter that you so obviously adored, doesn't even factor into this?" Jenny made the switch from kind and understanding to raging mad in the blink of an eye, getting into his face. "The fact that you've been hiding half of your life, half of who you are, doesn't matter?"

"No, it doesn't!"

Just as fast as her anger appeared, it was gone. Her thin shoulders slumped, the light going out of her eyes, leaving them dull and glassy, as if she were about to cry again. "You asked why I left earlier, Jethro, you said you wanted a straight answer. You _really_ want to know? I left because I wasn't sure I could trust you with my heart, not when it was clear enough you didn't trust me with yours." She hopped down from the tool bench, heading over to the stairs with her back to him. "Maybe you should think about that, before you blame me for leaving."

Jethro stopped dead, sagging against the boat as if suckerpunched. His mind stumbled over words, frantically scrambling to put something into a manageable sentence. "Je—I…" He trailed off, hearing the slam of his front door from high above. She was gone. He pushed them away, he always did.

He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his cell phone after a long minute. "McGee."

"_Yeah, Boss? We got a case?"_

"No case. I need a favor."

"_Uh, s—sure, Boss, what's up?"_

"I—I need Agent Shepard's phone number."

* * *

A.J. was just settling into her couch with a much stronger drink than hot chocolate when her phone trilled, alerting her to a new call. "Of course." She set the drink down, reaching over to fish the phone out of her jacket. "Shepard."

The gruff voice that issued through the earpiece surprised her. _"A.J."_

"Jethro. Do, ah, do all of your team members know my phone or something?"

"_Or something. I—I need your help. Can we meet somewhere, to talk?"_

"Er…sure. Where you thinking?"

"_Uh…coffee, maybe? You know the place off of M Street and Jefferson?"_

"That little café? Sure, no problem."

"_Meet you there in 20 minutes."_

A.J. stared at her phone as it went dead, shaking her head slowly.

* * *

She was already seated at a small table near the back corner of the café when he arrived, her fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee.

Gibbs dropped wearily into the seat across from her, a larger cup of coffee in his own hands. "A.J."

"Jethro. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He sighed, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I…I need help."

A.J. nodded slowly, making an 'on with it' motion with one hand. "You already told me that. Help with what? Seeing as you're talking to me and not one of your friends makes me think it involves my sister."

Gibbs winced. "Er…yeah, it does."

"Right, then. What's the problem?"

"How do I make her love me again?"

A.J. froze halfway through taking a drink, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

His gaze dropped to the coffee cup in his hands. "I…we talked earlier, she said she can't trust me with her heart because I don't trust her with mine, but I do! She thinks…well, I don't know what she's thinking anymore, that's half the problem, but…I trust her, more than she seems to know, but she won't—she thinks I don't love her!"

"For good reason, if you look at it properly. She left you thinking you didn't really love her, and you proved her right."

"_How?"_ Gibbs threw up his hands, exasperated. "How did I ever prove I don't love her?"

"Other than your third marriage to that redhead that Ducky's friends with?"

He flushed bright red at that, his gaze dropping to his lap.

"Yeah, thought so." A.J. smirked, taking a long drink of coffee before continuing. "She left you with a letter and a sort of…unspoken ultimatum. However wrong she may have been, she thought that by leaving, she would force your hand. If you dropped everything and came after her, tried to win her back, then you really loved her. Or, well, at least, that's what she thought."

"She told me not to come…the letter said…"

"Yeah, yeah, women are confusing, welcome to the world of relationships, bub." She shrugged. "Can't say we always make sense, 'cause we're notorious for twisting words to work the way we want them to, but…look, Jethro, Jen thought that by leaving you with that letter, she'd be able to get her proof that you really loved her. She figured that letter would make you come running after her."

Gibbs sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the steam curling off his nearly untouched coffee. He looked up at the blonde after a while, sighing. "You really think…I thought she wanted a clean break…" He sighed again, slumping with his head in his hands. "I used Stephanie as a way to get over your sister, I didn't even realize she…"

"Yeah, well, my sister is known for being enigmatic at best." A.J. smiled sadly, shrugging one shoulder.

"How do I fix it?"

"I don't know, do you really want to fix it?"

"Wha—what the hell are you saying?"

"I'm asking if you're really committed to fixing whatever happened between the two of you, or if you're just doing it out of some misplaced chauvinistic need to make things right because you're guilty."

"I—no, I want to fix it because I love Jenny and I want…I want her to be happy."

"Somewhat presumptuous of you, assuming that you make her happy."

"You _said_ I made her happy, when we talked earlier."

A.J. shrugged, holding her hands out defensively at his tone. "I know what I said, I'm not refuting it, I'm just…look, Gibbs, sometimes you don't really want to fix something because of the reasons you think you want to fix it, and you…well, it ends up badly for whoever's involved. If you think my sister's gonna be some replacement for your dead wife and kid, I really think you ought to just leave her be." Her eyes flashed with her last statement as she leaned forward, meeting his gaze squarely.

He froze in place, the blood draining from his face. "H—How…?"

"How do I know about your family? Despite nearly five years without talking, my sister still uses me as a confidant. She came and talked for a while after you left her crying in her office."

"She…that's private!"

"Right, and you just left the picture there because you didn't want to give her time to come to terms with it." A.J. sucked in an irritated breath, scowling at him. "It's not like she's publishing a fucking news story with it, dammit, she came to me because she didn't know what the hell to do. I told her to go talk to you, which clearly didn't end well if your presence here is anything to go by."

"I didn't _want _to talk about it, and she kept pushing the damn subject!"

"If you didn't want to talk about it, you shouldn't have told her."

He blinked, giving A.J. a frustrated look as he shook his head. "No, not…not Shannon and Kelly, she kept bringing up goddamn Paris!"

"Isn't that the problem between the two of you, though? Your problems stem from and end in Paris. She wanted to fix things between you two, that's why she went to you, that's why she pushed the subject. You need to make a decision, Gibbs. Do you really want to fix this? Or are you just looking for a substitute for your family?"

Gibbs sat back, glaring at his coffee cup. "I want to fix things."

A.J. snorted lightly, rolling her eyes. "I'll believe it when you can look me in the eye and say it."

His shoulders stiffened at the taunt, his head snapping up as he met her eyes with a glare. "I want to fix things between us."

"Good. Now, go, talk to my sister."

"Huh?"

A.J. grinned at the confused look on his face, standing up and helping him into his coat. "We're done with the customary 'I'm-the-over-protective-sister' talk and the 'I-really-do-love-your-sister-and-I'm-not-just-trying-to-get-into-her-pants' talk, and you've proven to me and yourself that you want to fix things between you and my sister, so…what the hell are you waiting for?" She set two hands under his armpits, lifting until he scrambled to his feet on his own.

"I—but…"

"Shut up, and go talk to my sister before she shuts you out permanently."

Gibbs blinked, following the light hand at his elbow as A.J. shunted him out of the café. "You really think…?"

"That she'll talk to you? Hypothetically, yes. In reality, you might have to fight a bit to get her to listen. But I have faith in you." A.J. grinned, patting his shoulder lightly. "Good talk, mate. Now go win my sister over."

He turned to leave, smiling slightly.

"Hey. Jethro."

"Huh?"

"You hurt her, and I'll do a hell of a lot more than kick out your bad knee."

He grinned, nodding. "Got it." He tilted his head to the side, smirking at her. "Anything else?"

"You got that Agent McGee's number?"

"Huh?"

"McGee. Phone number."

"Oh." He frowned, pulling out his phone. "Um…why do you need McGee's phone number?"

A.J. smiled enigmatically, shrugging. "I owe him a coffee."

"Right." He scrolled through his contacts, giving her the phone number. "Well, ah, goodbye."

"Yeah, see you later."

Gibbs turned to leave again, still smiling. He turned back at the last minute, glancing over his shoulder. "Hey, A.J."

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"No problem, Chief. Go get 'em."

Gibbs laughed quietly, turning and walking away. A.J. watched him go, a small smirk quirking her lips as she glanced down at the phone in her hand, tapping her thumb once on the 'Send' button.

It rang a few times, until a click on the other end signified it had been picked up. _"Hello?"_

"Agent McGee. It's A.J. Shepard."

"_Oh, uh…hey, A.J. What's up?"_

"I was wondering…you want to go get that coffee I promised? No knives or other deadly weapons present, I promise."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then a short intake of breath. _"Yeah, that'd be nice. Where do you want to meet?"_

"You know the café on M Street and Jefferson?"

"_Yeah, I can be there in fifteen minutes."_

"Great! I'll see you there in a bit, then."

She clicked her phone shut with a grin, settling down outside the café to wait.

* * *

Jethro used past knowledge of where her spare key was hidden to slip into the house unnoticed, pausing for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness in her entrance hall. He slipped his coat off, his hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced around, eyes alighting on the strip of light bleeding out under the study door.

Jenny sat curled up in her father's old office chair, a pile of tissues on the desk in front of her as she stared into the fireplace. She started at the gentle knock on the study door. "Noemi, I'm not hungry right now, thank you. You can go home."

The door opened slowly, revealing the last person she wanted to see at the moment. Gibbs offered a small smile, his hands held up in a disarming gesture. "I'm not Noemi."

She sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over her face. "Jethro…what are you doing?"

He crossed the room in three strides, walking around the side of her desk where he knelt, fixing his gaze on hers. "Coming after you."

Jenny stiffened imperceptibly, her eyes widening. "Jethro…we can't…please, not right now."

He shook his head, reaching out to trap her hands in his. "Jenny…I know this seems like it's coming six years too late, but…I love you, and I'm sorry I never came after you after Paris to prove that to you. I…I know I can be a real bastard sometimes, and I'm sorry I ever gave you a reason to doubt that I love you. I trust you with all my heart, and I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to give us another chance." He slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a thin silver chain with three items strung on the end. A small platinum band hung next to his dog tags, clinking together gently as they swung from his hand. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I love you, Jenny Shepard, and I miss you, and I'm here on my knees asking you to give us another chance. Please?"

Jenny sniffed, her eyes filling with tears as she stared at him in disbelief. "You…you think we can do this again?"

He nodded earnestly, reaching up with a gentle hand to brush the tears away. "I think that if we give this a go again, and promise to be honest with each other, then we can do it."

"No more games? No more holding things back?"

Jethro looked her in the eyes, cupping her face in both of his hands. "No more games, no more hiding, no more lies. Just us."

Jenny swallowed, blinking away a fresh wave of tears at his admission. "Alright."

He sat back on his heels, taking her hands again. "You're willing to give us another try?"

She let out a half laugh through her tears, nodding.

Jethro's face broke out in a wide smile as he pulled her into a gentle hug, slipping the necklace over her head in the process.

Jenny relaxed into the hug, hiding a smile in his shoulder as she reached up, her fingers looping through the chain.

He sat back, still holding her shoulders, keeping his gaze focused on her face. "I love you, Jen."

Her smile widened. "I love you too."

* * *

McGee walked up to the café slowly, grumbling irritably at the sling on his shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Well gee, don't look so pleased to see me." A.J. spoke up from her spot near the door, grinning.

He flushed, glancing down at his shoes. "Oh. Hey, A.J. It's good to see you." He stepped to the side, holding the door open for her. "What can I get you?"

She smiled at him softly, waving away his wallet. "I've got it. At the very least, I owe you for the shoulder. Go find us a seat, I'll grab our drinks."

Tim made his way to a somewhat secluded table against the wall, taking a seat as he waited. He stood quickly when A.J. returned with the coffees, pulling her chair out and waiting until she sat down.

A.J. smiled as she slid his coffee across the table. "Such a gentleman, McGee."

"You don't have to call me McGee, Tim is fine." He grinned bashfully, ducking his head. "I, uh…my mom would kick my ass if she found out I went with a girl for coffee and didn't 'present myself admirably'."

"'Course she would. It's nice to know at least some guys still have manners." She took a slow sip of coffee, meeting his eyes over the rim of her cup. "So, I owe you an apology for the shoulder."

"What, this? No big deal. Ducky said I'll be good in about a week and a half."

"Well, yeah, but that's your shooting hand, Tim. I know my sister, and I know she'll stick you on desk duty until you get your re-cert for firearms, so you're stuck at your desk for nearly two weeks because my aim was a bit low."

Tim's forehead crinkled in a slight frown. "Wait…aim was a bit _low_? You weren't trying to hit me?"

"Not intentionally, no, the knife was a distraction so I wouldn't get shot in the back as I ran." A.J. chuckled softly. "Unfortunately, my aim dipped a bit as I turned to run. It was intended to pass right over your shoulder, making you duck."

He laughed in response, taking a drink of coffee. "Huh. Well, uh…thanks, I guess?"

"Hey, you get free coffee out of it, I wouldn't complain."

"I'm not complaining." Tim flashed another bright smile at her, relaxing back in his chair. "So…"

A.J. mirrored his posture with a smirk, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "So?"

"You're Director Shepard's younger sister."

"Yup. Nine years younger. We haven't talked in a while."

"Oh."

"Aw, you're cute. You wanted gossip on the Director from me."

"No."

"Right, and I'm a monkey's uncle."

Tim smiled at that, laughing shortly. "Okay, a little. She's like…legend at NCIS, with how fast she's moved up the agency."

A.J.'s lips twitched in a sad smile. "She gave up a lot to get there, Tim. Her job is most of the reason why we stopped talking. I've never liked her ambitious streak."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling gently at her. "From what I could tell in observation, she's not a big fan of your sarcastic streak."

She shrugged halfheartedly, wincing slightly. "Most people aren't. Something about hearing the truth that they don't wanna hear."

Tim noticed the wince, frowning. "You okay? Ducky said he didn't check you over, and Palmer's not always known for being the most observant."

"Subluxation of my shoulder. Popped almost all the way outta joint when your Agent DiNozzo tackled me into that bench, popped it back in myself. It's gonna hurt like hell for a few days, no big deal."

His frown deepened. "You sure you don't want Ducky to check that out?"

A.J. shook her head. "It's not a big deal, really. I've done it before, I know how it feels. If it's getting worse, I'll have it taken care of."

"Well, okay, if you say so."

She rolled her eyes, waving away the concern. "You about finished?"

Tim glanced down at his nearly empty coffee cup. "Oh, yeah."

A.J. stood, grabbing their trash. "Well, this was fun, Tim."

"I—It was, yeah. I had a good time." He stuffed his free hand into his pocket as they exited the café together. "Y—you uh, you want to go for a walk?"

"A nice moonlit stroll through the streets of D.C.? Eh…sure, why not?" A.J. grinned at him, looping her arm through his free one.

They walked along in silence for a while, passing precious few others in the night. Tim glanced to the side, slowing his walk to a stop. He smiled nervously at A.J., glancing down at his feet before looking up and meeting her gaze. "I—I was wondering if maybe you'd like to do this again sometime."

A.J. blinked, and then smiled brightly. "You mean another date?"

"A—A date, yeah. I'd like to take you out for a drink sometime."

She tilted her head to the side, considering. "I'd like that. That'd be great."

Tim smiled wider, his eyes bright. "Great! Good, good, okay."

"Alright. It's a date, then."

He nodded vigorously, scratching the back of his head. "Well, uh…it's getting late. We…we probably ought to get going."

"Ah, yeah."

"I'll walk you to your car." He looped his arm back through hers, walking at a sedate pace back towards the café.

A.J. brought them to a stop next to a black Audi TTS Coupe. "Well, uh, this is mine."

Tim blinked, staring at the sleek, stylish coupe. "Wow."

"Heh, yeah. Every gearhead's wet dream, huh?"

"That's really…wow, that's a nice car. Sure wish I worked for the Agency, now."

"It's a stipend, to pay me off for staying undercover for so long."

"Heh. Wow. Really gotta get me one of these."

"No kidding. Handles like a dream." A.J. jingled the keys in her hand, scuffing a foot on the sidewalk. "Well, I probably better be going."

"Oh, right, yeah." Tim stepped back, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I, uh…I guess I'll give you a call."

"Yeah, okay." She moved to walk around the car.

Tim moved forward at the last second, catching her elbow. "W—wait."

A.J. turned back around, raising a quizzical eyebrow. She grinned faintly as Tim leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

He pulled back after a long moment, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"That was…nice." She grinned, twirling the keys on her finger. "You sure you don't wanna go get that drink now?"

The smile morphed into a small smirk. "I don't know, you want to? I'm not promising a bar for this one."

"Wasn't asking for one. Besides, there's an almost fully stocked bar back at my place."

"Alright, then." He reached into his pocket, shuffling for his keys. "I'll follow you?"

"Sure thing."

* * *

Jethro Gibbs shifted in his sleep, peeking one blue eye open when his arm encountered a warm body next to his. His field of vision was filled with a head of red hair resting against his shoulder, a small hand resting on his chest. He blinked and shifted again, pulling Jenny closer.

"Stop moving."

"What?"

"Go back to sleep, Jethro, I'm tired. Stop moving."

He laughed quietly, shifting one last time to pull her back against his chest, his arms wound around her abdomen. "Love you, Jenny."

There was a faint grumble, and then her hand raised up to pat his face lightly.

"Love you too. Now shut up, and _go to sleep_."

* * *

**_A/n: Yay chapter 6!_**

**_This is jumping off the deep end into AU now, in case you hadn't noticed. _**

**_I have a feeling the team's going to be seeing a good bit more of A.J. (Some more so than others, if you catch my drift...)_**

**_Reviews are awesome!_**

**_-meg_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/n: Hello, everyone! I finally managed to find some time to sit down and write, so I'll be updating a little more often after this._**

**_This is about a month after chapter 6. Still in Season 3, still AU._**

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

**7. You're Not In On the Joke**

**January 20, 2006 (Season 3 post Ep.13 "Deception")**

A.J. Shepard stumbled out of bed at oh-dark-thirty, cursing up a blue streak as her foot impacted a side table rather painfully. "Son of a mother fu-."

"You always have such a lovely outlook on the morning." Tim McGee spoke up groggily from her bed; the sheets slung low across his back. His hand moved around the sheets like a freakish spider, searching for his boxers.

"Yeah, well, the glass is always half empty, and cracked. And I think I broke my damn toe." A.J. fell back onto the bed, lifting her foot and examining the offending digit gingerly.

"Doesn't look broken to me." Tim spoke from over her shoulder, having successfully located his boxers in the jumble of clothing at the foot of the bed.

"Hmph." She stood again, limping to her dresser, where she began rifling through for clothes. "Sure feels broken."

He snickered as he fumbled for his trousers, slipping them up over his hips. "Want me to kiss it better?"

"Want me to castrate you?"

He winced sharply, slipping past her and out the doorway. "Ouch. And, on that note, I think I'll go make us some coffee."

The sound of her doorbell ringing cut through the apartment. "I'll get it!" A.J. snagged Tim's MIT shirt from the floor, jerking it over her head as she limped to the door, grumbling under her breath. "Jesus, I'm coming, hold the hell on!"

The doorbell rang again insistently as A.J. jerked the door open, scowling at her newest visitor. "Jen."

"Hey. Can I come in?"

The blonde frowned, glancing over her shoulder as she fidgeted with the edge of her (Tim's) shirt. "Er…no, not really. What could you possibly need at 0540?"

"Why can't I come in?" Jenny frowned, her gaze flicking over her sister's form. Tousled hair, an oversized shirt, and what looked suspiciously like a hickey on the side of her neck. "Ah."

"Do I need to spell it out for ya?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." The redhead flushed bright red, sighing. "I was coming to ask your help with a case, but, ah…maybe I ought to leave you to it."

"Probably should, yeah. I'll drop by your office later."

"Er…right. I'll be going, then."

"Lovely."

Jenny raised one quizzical eyebrow, going up on her tiptoes in an attempt to see over her taller sister's shoulder. "Who is he? Is he cute?"

A.J. groaned, pushing Jenny away good-naturedly. "Oh my god, you're like a dog with a bone. _GO_."

Jenny rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, heading to the elevator. "See you later!"

"Yeah, yeah…" She shut the door loudly and limped back down the hall, heading for the kitchen.

Tim leaned against the counter in pants and nothing else, a cup of coffee gripped between his hands. "That was awkward."

A.J. nodded, reaching around him for her own cup, taking an appreciative. "Mmhmm."

"You uh…you think she knows we're sleeping together?"

She lifted one shoulder in a partial shrug. "Probably not, she's become somewhat oblivious when it comes to my love life."

"Hm." Tim sipped his coffee again, eyeing the mark on the side of her neck. "Huh. It's bigger than I thought. You might want a scarf."

"Well, if you would have stopped gnawing on my damn neck last night, we wouldn't have this problem, now would we?"

He flushed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before." A.J. rolled her eyes, finishing off her coffee. "C'mon, if we hurry, we can get a shower in before you have to leave for work."

* * *

Special Agent Timothy McGee hurried into the bullpen an hour later, his hair still wet from a prolonged shower.

"Probie!" Tony DiNozzo lounged at his desk, a greasy breakfast burrito in one hand. "You're almost late, McTardicus."

"Almost late doesn't make me tardy, Tony." McGee bent over his desk, searching through the drawers for his spare shirt.

"You're wearing the same clothes."

Tim jerked his old shirt over his head, ignoring Tony as he buttoned up the fresh one. "Actually, you'll find that I'm not wearing the same shirt."

DiNozzo ignored him, continuing with his train of thought as if Tim weren't there. "There's a change in you, Probie. I can see it."

"What?"

"New, nicer clothes, you got a haircut, you actually look like you're working out, you don't stutter half as much as you used to, and…I don't know, Probie-San, you've got this…aura to you." Tony set the burrito down on his desk, reclining back with his hands tucked behind his head. He winked at Tim, waggling his eyebrows suggestively during his next statement. "Who's the lucky lady, Timm-o?"

"Who says it's any of your business, DiNozzo?"

"Ouch, Probie, I was just asking." DiNozzo managed an impressive pout, his lip quivering.

_WHACK._

"Shutting up now, Boss. Thank you, Boss."

Tim smirked as he sank into his chair, taking a long sip from the travel mug A.J. had handed him as he sprinted out the door. For leaving her place as late as he did, he'd made excellent time.

The bullpen was silent for a while, each member working in relative peace, until Tony grew bored again. Gibbs had disappeared five minutes previously on a coffee run, and they had no viable leads on their current case and were therefore searching through anything and everything in the hopes of finding _something_ before the Marine returned.

"McGee."

Tim ignored Tony's insistent whisper, focusing resolutely on the computer screen in front of him.

"Pssst. McGee."

Ziva glanced up, glaring at her partner before returning to her work. McGee continued resolutely ignoring the calls from the Senior Agent.

"Hey, McGee!"

Finally, he'd had it. He turned in his chair, fixing the Italian with an impressive glare. "What, DiNozzo?"

"Gibbs has been gone awful long, don't you think?"

"He went to get coffee, Tony, and he probably needed a break from your incessant chattering." Tim gave Tony a sneering smile, turning back to his computer.

The Italian pouted for a few moments before resuming his previous line of thought. "Well, I was saying, Probie-Wan Kenobi, maybe Gibbs snuck back into the building to go up to the Director's office."

There was an audible groan from both McGee and Ziva. Tim rolled his eyes, turning to stare at Tony. "Why do you insist on thinking that Gibbs and the Director are always sneaking around the office having sex?"

"I think it is because he has not…how do you say…gotten any? Yes, he has not gotten any for a few months. He is living vicariously by imagining fantasies of his co-workers." Ziva smirked wickedly at Tony's squeak of outrage, meeting McGee's amused gaze.

"I am not! I just thought, since Gibbs keeps conveniently disappearing whenever the Director doesn't have any meetings, they're probably in the same place, and with all the UST, they _have_ to be doing it."

"Doing what, Agent DiNozzo?" Jenny spoke up from over the divider, a quizzical eyebrow arched imperiously on her brow.

"Eeep." Tony scrabbled with the papers on his desk, grabbing a handful as he tripped out of his chair, heading for the back entrance of the bullpen with a mumbled, "Going to Abby's."

_WHACK_.

"Or not." He pivoted on his foot as Gibbs appeared, taking the headslap with a pronounced wince.

"You got anything for me, DiNozzo? Or are you just wasting my time again?"

"Working now, Boss! On it!"

Jenny gave Gibbs an amused look, walking over to sit on the edge of his desk. "Still no leads on the Hammond case?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes halfheartedly, gesturing around the bullpen in answer.

"I think I might be able to help."

"Playin' Agent again, Director?"

"No, not me." She flashed him a brief grin as she nodded towards the elevator. "She is."

A.J. Shepard slipped out of the silver doors, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her slacks. "Heya, Jen."

"What's _she_ doing here?" Tony's voice could only be described as accusing, his hazel eyes wary and guarded as he glared at the blonde in front of him.

"My sister is going to help out on your case, per the orders of the Director of the CIA. You have a problem with that, Agent DiNozzo?"

He scowled, his jaw jutting out petulantly as he turned the glare on the papers on his desk instead. "No, ma'am."

"Good. I'll be expecting progress updates, Jethro." Jenny breezed past her sister calmly, turning back at the last second. "Oh, and A.J.?"

"Hm?"

"Play nice."

The CIA Agent snorted, pulling a grotesque face at the departing redhead's back before turning back to face the team, a small smirk on her lips. "So. What are we doing?"

"_We're_ investigating. You're standing in my light." DiNozzo pushed her out of the way childishly, still glaring a hole in the papers on his desk. He yelped loudly when A.J. reached out and snagged his ear, pulling him halfway out of the desk chair.

"A.J.!" Jenny's shout from the catwalk made the five agents look up.

"What?"

"I told you to play nice."

A.J. looked mutinous as she twisted Tony's ear harder, eliciting another squeak from the agent. "He started it."

"And I'm ending it. DiNozzo, shut up and do your work. Shepard, your desk is over there by McGee. _Get to work!_" Gibbs appeared at A.J.'s shoulder, pulling the spook away from the Italian.

"That was a serious question, you know."

"What?"

"I asked what we're doing. I haven't been read in on the case."

Gibbs sighed, sinking down at his desk. "McGee…fill her in."

"On it, Boss."

Tim rolled his chair around and over to the desk next to A.J., hiding a smirk with his back to Tony and Gibbs.

* * *

"You want me to get you an invite to Club Jupiter?" A.J. tilted her head to the side quizzically, her brow furrowed.

Tony rolled his eyes, exasperated. "That'd be the general idea, yes."

"You don't fit the bill, mate. I can get someone in, but it's not you."

"What? It's the most exclusive club in all of D.C.! I can't fit the bill any better!"

The blonde raised an amused eyebrow. "Funny, how you seem to think arguing is going to get you anywhere. Find someone else, Gibbs. DiNozzo won't cut it."

Gibbs hid a smirk behind his coffee cup as Tony nearly screeched in outrage at A.J.'s cool dismissal. "Who do you suggest?"

She turned and surveyed the team critically. "Two teams. McGee and I, you and Ziva. High-end, classy clientele. DiNozzo can run the surveillance from this end." With that, the blonde turned on her heel, heading for the elevator. "You've got two hours."

* * *

"Do you have to antagonize Tony like that?"

"Hm?" A.J. hardly looked up from her laptop, her feet propped up on the desk and crossed at the ankle.

Tim rolled his eyes and scooted his chair closer, nudging her feet. "Seriously. Why do you try your hardest to piss Tony off?"

"He dislocated my shoulder, and has been less than accommodating for the rest of the time I've known him. Until he proves that he deserves my trust, I don't owe him a damn thing."

McGee raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a half-smirk, tilting his head to the side in a 'get real' look.

A.J. sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Alright, alright, and he sort of reminds me of this suave creep of a guy I had to seduce when I was UC in London. Unfair prejudice, I know. I'll work on it, okay?"

"Better." Tim rolled his chair back to his desk, returning to his work on the computer. He didn't look up until something was dropped in his lap. "What's this?"

"Your suit. Get dressed." A.J. moved over to Gibbs desk, dropping a similar garment bag in the silver haired Agent's lap.

Tim obediently stood, already heading for the men's room with his bag, when the name on the bag caught his eye. "A.J…."

"Yes?"

"This is tailored."

Gibbs frowned, glancing down at his own bag before opening it, pulling the jacket out. "Mine is too. I have a suit, A.J. So does McGee."

A.J. smirked and glanced sideways at Ziva, who bore a similar amused look on her own face. "Ah, but, you see gentlemen, there are dinner jackets, and then there are _dinner jackets_. Those are of the latter. You need to look like you belong when you walk in that club."

Gibbs scratched his head, the frown still present. "That's all good and fine, but these are _tailored_."

"Yeah, I sized you up ages ago."

Gibbs opened his mouth a few times as if he were about to say something, but evidently gave up as he stood and walked with McGee to the men's room.

* * *

"Wow. I never figured Boss could pull off a suit like that." Tony leaned against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the four agents prepare for their trip undercover.

"Why, because I buy everything on sale at Sears?" Gibbs barely turned from his contemplation of the small mirror in front of him, scowling at the fourth failed attempt at tying his tie.

"Give me that. You're doing it all wrong." Jenny slipped past his form, grabbing the tie from his hands and looping it deftly around his neck. "DiNozzo, is everything set up in MTAC?"

"Er…right, going to check, Director."

A.J. smirked as she straightened her dress. "What is it with men and ties?"

"It's too intricate. It's like a bra, for men, honestly." Jenny finished adjusting the knot, stepping back to admire her work. "There. Perfect."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, turning away to slip a hidden communications system on. "I can tie a tie, you know."

"Takes you half an hour because you have to stand there and squint at it."

"And yet you women can't seem to zip a dress on your own."

"I dunno what ladies you're talking about, but I can zip my own dress."

"Who said you're a lady?" The joke slipped past Tim's lips before he could stop it. His returning quip to A.J.'s flirting in the restaurant had turned into a longstanding joke between the two of them. While A.J. knew he was merely joking, Jenny, Gibbs and Ziva had no idea.

"Well, there has to be some reason you can't keep your eyes off of me." A.J. winked, smirking as she looped her arm through Ziva's and headed for the restroom to fix their make-up.

Tim stood frozen halfway through the process of slipping on his tie, his eyes wide.

Gibbs grunted something about checking up on Tony after receiving a sharp look from Jenny.

"Tim."

He swallowed jerkily, turning to meet the Director's inquisitive stare head on. "D—Director Shepard, ma'am…I-I didn't mean it the way it sounded, it was…I wasn't thinking. I—I'll apologize to your sister."

Jenny stared at him with a raised eyebrow for a long moment before she broke into a grin, moving forward to fix his tie. "You don't have to apologize. She wasn't offended."

"O—oh."

"But, that doesn't stop me from saying this. I can't tell you not to get into a relationship with my sister, what you do on your own time is your business, same with my sister's time off the job." She finished with his tie, pulling the knot to a comfortable position. "I will warn you, though, Tim. A.J.'s not like most women you'll meet. And if you hurt her, take care to remember who her older sister is." Jenny set her mouth in a convincing looking smile as she patted his lapels lightly. "Just…be careful, Tim."

"Y—yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Alright, now that everyone is dressed and suited up for our mission, I'm going to go over the guidelines here. Agent DiNozzo will be in MTAC with me as support, running video surveillance…" Jenny's voice faded into the background as A.J. sidled up to Gibbs, leaning in close to murmur in his ear.

"Does she know how annoying these briefings are?"

He smirked slightly, adjusting the cuff links on his suit. "Oh, I'm sure she does."

"Think we ought to say anything about it?"

"Nah. The burden of command is heavy." Gibbs glanced up to where Jenny continued droning on about procedure, the smirk widening. "We should probably let her have her fun."

A.J. lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, noting her sister's quizzical gaze at the two of them. "Especially since she's going to do it anyways."

"She _is _the mighty Director of NCIS. We're but lowly Agents. We obey without question."

"We do?"

"That was a question. You're questioning."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"Are you two quite finished?" Jenny stood with her hands on her hips, her green eyes narrowed in exasperation.

A.J. grinned, waving a hand cheerily. "Carry on, we're listening."

"As I was saying…you're going in pairs of two. All the info we have on Hammond so far is that he was 'caught' cheating on his wife, per the letter from our suspect. We're hoping that if Agent McGee and A.J. go in together and McGee leaves with Ziva, our suspect might strike again."

"Probie-bait!" Tony snickered from the back of the group, letting out a whine of pain a moment later as Ziva whacked him sharply.

Tim rolled his eyes, leaning against his desk. "Gee, thanks Tony, I'm glad you care."

Gibbs turned and silenced the Italian with a piercing glare.

"Shutting up now, Boss."

"Can we _please_ get on with this? I'm bored."

Jenny sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Alright, I think we're done here. You're dismissed."

* * *

Tony stood in front of the screen in MTAC, drumming his fingers on his elbow as he waited for the video feed to start in.

"Agent DiNozzo."

"D—Director, ma'am. Didn't hear you there."

The redhead smiled a little dangerously. "I figured I'd help out here in MTAC, keep an eye on the op."

Tony pasted on a cheery smile, turning back to the video screen with a grimace. "We live yet, Dayan?"

The MTAC Technical Director glanced up from his place in front of the computer, nodding shortly. "In three, two, one."

The screen blinked to life with low lit, somewhat grainy video, fed in from two buttonhole cameras on Gibbs and McGee, and two necklace cams on Ziva and A.J.

A.J.'s voice filtered through the speakers a moment later as she spoke to the bouncer. _"Four under O'Leary. We're here with Sledge's party."_

The bouncer checked his list, nodding sharply as he stepped aside to let them in. Gibbs' low tones rumbled through next. _"Cheap security for such a high end club."_

"_Or so you think." _A.J. sounded amused.

Tony and Jenny watched as the foursome claimed a small corner booth to themselves, A.J. and McGee moving out to the dance floor after a few minutes.

"Huh. Never knew Probie could dance like that." Tony's eyes widened further as A.J. and McGee pressed nearly impossibly closer, weaving around the floor with ease. "Damn. You don't normally get that close to a lady unless you're already doing so."

"I beg your pardon?" Jenny's voice broke over the Italian's shoulder.

He jumped, swallowing sharply. "N—Nothing, ma'am. Just talking to myself."

Jenny stared at the video screen calmly, noting the closeness between her younger sister and McGee. "You honestly think they're together?"

"I…ah—I don't know?"

"You can answer me honestly, Tony."

Tony gulped. "I—I mean, McGee's been raised a gentleman, he…the Tim I know wouldn't get that close to a lady unless they were already…ya know, close and stuff."

"Even for a cover?"

The senior agent shrugged. "He's good, but not that good. If he's that close to her, it means he's comfortable around her, which means they're either sleeping together or have done so before. Considering all the changes I've noticed in him, I'm going to go with the former."

The redhead's lips quirked in a faint smirk. "I wouldn't put it past my sister, to be honest. Can't see why I didn't figure it out earlier."

Tony shrugged again, his gaze half-focused on the screen. "After the fiasco that was Abby and McGee, he seems to keep what girls he does date close to the chest. I only found out about his last one 'cause I saw them in a coffee shop on a weekend off. He was pissed off and grumpy a week later, so I figure that didn't last long."

"Abby and McGee dated?"

"If you want to call it that, sure. She's a hardcore commitment-phobe. It was really more sleeping together than dating for Abby and McGee got in over his head thinking he was in love with her. As far as I know, they were split up before Gibbs brought him on the team. Abby acted like everything was the same; McGee was just quiet for a few weeks."

"Anything else I should know, since you seem to be the source of all gossip on Team Gibbs?"

He snorted, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Ah…that depends. Whaddaya wanna know?"

"You know who that redhead Je—Gibbs used to come into the office with was?"

Tony frowned, shaking his head. "No, never did figure that out. She'd show up every once in a while in a shiny silver Benz convertible and pick him up. Think she was at the hospital too, when Ari shot Gibbs the first time."

Jenny raised her eyebrows at that. "Hm."

A.J.'s voice filtered through the speakers again, cutting their conversation short. _"Time to set the bait for our killer, if they're here."_

Tony and Jenny watched as A.J. separated from McGee with a light kiss on the cheek, heading for the restrooms, while Ziva slipped away from a seemingly oblivious Gibbs. The two agents met in the middle of the room, McGee slipping a possessive arm around Ziva's waist as the pair began dancing. Gibbs held his seemingly oblivious position near the bar, his eyes sweeping the room, looking for the suspect.

McGee made a show of leaning in to whisper something in Ziva's ear, his hand sliding suggestively along her spine, before he led her out of the club.

"_Got him. Grey sweater, near you, Jethro."_ A.J. re-appeared from the back, making a beeline for the door as a thin, unassuming man in a grey sweater slipped out of the club after McGee and Ziva, followed closely by Gibbs.

The video lost some of its quality in the lower light outside, turning grainy.

"_You sick creep! You led her on, you asshole! Girls oughta be rid of slick jerks like you!" _The thin man held McGee and Ziva at gunpoint, his voice sharp.

"_Put the gun down, sir. Federal Agents." _Gibbs approached from the left, his previously hidden back-up pulled from his ankle.

The man's hand shook slightly as he eyed A.J. and Gibbs speculatively. _"That Navy jock deserved what he got, leading that poor college kid on! The world ought to be rid of scum like those people!" _

A.J. noted the change in his body position, shaking her head. _"Don't do it, bub. We're armed Federal Agents. Just set the gun down, sir."_

"_You're ruining my work!"_ With that, the man spun, firing a shot at Gibbs as he tried to run. McGee pulled his gun from the small of his back, firing twice without blinking. The suspect crumpled to the ground limply, the gun clattering out of his hand.

"_You alright, Boss?"_

Gibbs grunted as he stood, brushing his suit off. _"Grazed my arm, I'm fine." _He looked over to A.J. _"He gone?"_

The blonde nodded from her position by the prone man. "_Double tap. Gun's a match to what Abby said, from what I can see."_

"_We'll have to have her test it. Jen…I know you're listening. Can you send DiNozzo and Ducky? We've got a body here."_

* * *

"Bullets are a match, Gibbs! We got him!" Abby bounced up to the supervisory Agent's desk, slapping a file folder down in front of him.

"Thanks, Abs. Good job." Gibbs sat back in his chair, a small patch of gauze taped to his right bicep. He glanced around at the gathered agents, still sitting at their desks. "Go home, all of you. Reports are due by noon tomorrow. Get some rest."

Tony and Ziva cleared out instantly, already beginning anew at an argument started earlier in the day as they slipped into the elevator.

Gibbs looked up at his youngest agent as Abby turned to head for her lab. "Go home, Tim."

McGee looked up from his computer, startled. "I…I uh…" He colored slightly, his gaze flickering to A.J.'s unoccupied desk for a moment.

"Abby know the two of you are sleeping together?"

"I—What?" Tim sounded the closest to his old stuttering self that he had in weeks.

The silver haired agent smirked. "I'm not blind, McGee. You don't banter back and forth like the two of you do unless you're already sleeping together." He pinned the tech agent with piercing blue eyes, holding his gaze for a moment. "I would know, I'm dating her sister."

Tim gave him a sharp look, finally lifting his shoulder in a slight shrug. "No, Abby doesn't know. She knows I'm dating someone, but I don't think she's figured out who." He lifted his chin slightly, his brow furrowing in a small frown. "What does it matter who I see outside the office?"

"It doesn't." Gibbs sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, Tim, I'm just asking because I'd rather head off Jenny doing it. A.J.—they're family, really the only family each other's got. Just, tread carefully with this one."

McGee's face settled back into his usual look, the side of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. "Thanks, Boss."

* * *

"You're sleeping with McGee."

A.J. froze halfway to her intended seat on Jenny's conference table, glancing over her shoulder at her sister. "What makes you think that?"

"The A.J. I know wouldn't let a guy get away with a comment like McGee made earlier in the bullpen unless you were already sleeping with him. You've become less of a casual flirt since your stint in London."

The blonde sighed, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the table. "Okay, fine, so I am. What's the big deal?"

"You can't just love and leave like you normally do, A."

"I'm not."

"You said that about Max, and then Theo after him."

"Really, I'm not. Tim's…different. We…work like a lot of my other relationships haven't. I'm trying, Jen, honest."

Jenny raised her eyebrow. "Why the change?"

"If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten." A.J. shrugged. "If I always go into a relationship not looking for commitment, I'm not going to find it. I'm getting a bit old to be casually sleeping around, don't you think?"

The redhead gave her sister a speculative look. "Is this going to affect any future relations between NCIS and the Agency?"

"I can't see any situations in which it would. If you think it's an issue, pair us with someone else."

"Well, alright, then." Jenny walked over to her desk, gathering her things together.

"You going to tell me how things with Jethro are going?"

She paused, her hand on the door handle. "You want me to snoop any further into your sex life?"

"Point taken." A.J. laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I'll be going, then. You need me for anything else?"

"I've got your report, so no. Night, A."

"Night, Jen."

* * *

"My sister knows we're dating." A.J. settled back into Tim's side comfortably, her eyes focused on the TV.

"So does Gibbs." He laughed softly, shrugging. "Practically told me he and your sister were dating, too."

"Huh." She captured his wandering hand, smirking. "Think Ziva might know, too. She hinted at it when we were changing in the ladies' earlier."

"Hey, less people to deal with in the endgame."

A.J. tilted her head to the side, looking up at him. "You think we should tell DiNutso and Abby?"

He shrugged again, shaking his head. "They're investigators; let 'em figure it out themselves." Tim successfully freed his hand, slowly sliding it up under her shirt. "What do you say we go work on not sleeping before I go into work tomorrow?"

A.J. sat up with a grin, grabbing his hand and heading for the bedroom. "Thought you'd never ask."

* * *

**_A/n: Reviews are awesome!_**

**_-meg_**


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/n: Finally, I update this thing. Sheesh. _**

**_For future reference, this chapter will serve as the starting point for a block set of chapters I'll be working on for the next little while involving an undercover operation with A.J._**

**_Um...this is set before 3x22 Jeopardy and 3x23/24 Hiatus I & II. _**

**_It's a long update, in my attempts to make up for my dismal updating schedule._**

**_Hope you enjoy._**

**_Disclaimer: Don't own them. Sucks, dunnit?_**

* * *

**8. Little Lion Man**

**April 30, 2006 (Pre- Season 3 Ep. 22 Jeopardy and Season 3 Eps. 23 & 24 Hiatus I & II)**

A.J. let out an irritated grumble as her cell phone rang, juggling the grocery bags in her hands as she fumbled in her pocket to grab it. "Shepard."

"_A.J."_ Gibbs' voice was low and slightly hoarse.

"Jethro. To what do I owe the honor?"

"_Jenny's been kidnapped."_

The groceries tumbled to the floor of the flat as A.J. took a step back, her eyes widening in fear. "Jenny?"

"_It was a heroin bust. We caught one of the Dempsey brothers with five million in heroin. His big brother decided that he wanted it back, and took your sister as collateral."_

"Shit." She stepped over the groceries strewn across the floor, her eyes flashing in irritation. "Son of a bitch. I'll be there in fifteen."

* * *

"What've you got, Gibbs?"

"And a hello to you too, Agent Shepard." Tony gaped as A.J. strode into the bullpen, her face hard.

A.J. spun on her heel, hitching Tony up by the front of his shirt. "You got any more smartass comments, DiNozzo? Because I assure you, without my sister here to play referee for you, I have no qualms in shooting you. Shut your damn mouth, before I shut it for you."

"A.J." Gibbs walked over, setting a hand at her elbow. "As much as you would enjoy it, shooting Tony won't help your sister. C'mon."

"What's going on? I want answers, and I want them now."

"We were running a drug case, investigating the Dempsey brothers. Brian and James Dempsey. They've been running drugs for a while now. We got a tip, caught Brian Dempsey with five million in heroin. James kidnapped Jenny in retaliation, says he wants his stash and Brian back in an hour."

"Other than the no negotiation rule, what's stopping you?"

Ziva spoke up from her desk. "We have a small problem. Brian Dempsey is dead."

"I'm going to assume since you seem to be restricted to desk duty that you may or may not be the reason our little baby drug dealer is dead."

"Ducky's doing an autopsy now." Gibbs picked up the clicker from his desk, pulling pictures up. "Tony went to the Whitmore, where Jenny was eating lunch, and found her driver, Stanley, shot dead in the trunk of her car. We've got footage of Dempsey and another suspect leaving the garage after Jenny's scheduled lunch. Agent Cassie Yates is on her way here with intel on James Dempsey."

"We have anything useful right now?"

Gibbs sighed, shaking his head. "Not anything that gets Jenny back."

"You leave me to handle that." A.J. squinted at the video footage. "The other suspect is Alex Rudd. I've seen him in a few gun-running circles I went UC in. Real nasty piece of work. I'll call around, find out who knows he's in town and see if I can get a location on him."

Tony stared, shaken as A.J. brushed past him, heading for the stairs. "Is there anybody other than me who thinks she's even scarier than her sister when she's pissed?"

Ziva let out a short laugh. "It was just a case of wrong place, wrong time, Tony. She will cool off in a bit."

Tim patted his shoulder lightly as he walked past after A.J. "She still tolerates you, Tony. It's okay."

"Tolerates?"

* * *

Tim leaned against the wall of the staircase, quietly observing the blonde huddled in the corner. "There was no need to threaten to shoot Tony, A."

"Yes, there was."

"Why?"

"He pissed me off."

"If you shot everyone who pissed you off, your sister would've been dead long ago."

She huffed out a laugh at that, glancing up with a wry look. "I like my sister, though."

"So you say. You like Tony too."

"No I don't."

Tim snorted, lifting his voice in a passable imitation of her own. "DiNozzo's not a bad guy, once you get to know him. I guess I like him, now."

"Oh, shut it. Stop being logical."

"That'll be the day." He walked over, sitting on the bottom stair with her. "You get in contact with anyone?"

"Everyone I've talked to had no idea Rudd was in town. He must've slipped under the radar for this deal."

"And what about the other thing?"

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"A little. Is it working?"

"Sort of. Trent said he can get a plan into motion to give you a plausible reason to pull out of here. Then, we just placate my sister and Gibbs with a few half-truths, and we're off to Europe to get set for the op."

"They establish cover ID's for us yet?"

"I'm going back under as one of my previous covers that I've been keeping updated. Rose O'Leary. Irish national, gun-runner for the IRA until peace broke out. I work smaller time deals now, on the side. You'll be Seamus Meehan. Personal bodyguard slash right hand man. We're working the opposite end of the deals from Kort. Hopefully, we'll catch some dealers in the middle, which is the intent of this whole pincer thing."

"Seamus?"

"It's a good Irish name, quit your complaining. Anything's better than _Rose_. No McGee though, sorry. Meehan was the closest we were able to get. You've got the coloring and build for a native born Irishman. We just need to work on the accent and mannerisms, and viola', ready-made Irish gun-runner and thug." She turned, running a hand over his chin. "You any good at growing a decent beard?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "We'll see."

"Well, anyways…hey, wait a minute, you got me off topic."

He grinned slightly, nodding. "That was my intent, yes."

"Thanks. I needed to get my mind off Jenny for a while to cool off."

"I figured. You don't normally threaten with physical violence unless you're really stressed."

"Do I really?" A.J. glanced sideways at him with a grin. "Huh. Never knew." She smirked, then glanced back at her knees with a sigh. "I suppose we should get back to work."

"Probably. I passed Cassie on my way down here, she's updating Gibbs now."

A.J. stood with a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes. "Well, I suppose we should go save my sister's sorry ass."

"Gibbs doesn't seem to think it's very sorry, for an ass."

_Whack._

"Kidding, sorry." McGee grinned, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Glad to have you back."

* * *

"What've we got, Jethro?" A.J. strode back into the bullpen like she owned the place, pausing her step only slightly to set a coffee down on Tony's desk with a brief smirk.

"Same thing we had ten minutes ago. Cassie dropped off her intel on the Dempsey brothers. You find anything on Rudd?"

"Nope. All of my contacts weren't even aware he'd slipped into the country." She leaned against the edge of Gibbs' desk with an irritated sigh. "When exactly did all this happen?"

"Nearly two hours ago?"

"So you waited an hour to call me."

"You got somethin' to say, A.J.?"

"No, you seem to have mucked things up well enough on your own." She sighed again, silencing him with a glare. "Dammit, Gibbs, just let me be irritated for five minutes, and suck it up. I'm not blaming anyone, I'm just pissed and you're an easy target. Now, are we sure there's nothing in Dempsey's personal effects that can't help us?"

"Go check with Abby."

A.J. rolled her eyes, pushing off the desk. She knew he was sending her there for busy work, and it was mildly soothing while simultaneously managing to be slightly irritating. Must be how Jenny felt, all the time.

Abby stood grumbling in the middle of the lab, a stack of tarot cards laid out in front of her. "Not to interrupt your rant, Abby, but Gibbs wants to know if you've got anything."

"I'm analyzing the shoe goop and looking over the evidence from the Director's car, but…" The Goth stamped her foot, frustrated. "He knows science takes time; I don't know why he keeps bugging me! You're like, the second person that's been down here! Tony just left!"

A.J. smiled a little sadly, leaning against the doorway. "You really don't know why he's acting like an angry overprotective papa bear?"

"I don…Oh. _Oh!_ Ohmigosh, I totally forgot that Gibbs and the Director are like, dating now! Aww, that's why he's so grumpy, he's all worried! That's cute!" The forensic scientist whirled as one of the machines behind her emitted a beep. "Hm. We'll have to work on your timing."

"Yes, ma'am." She rolled her eyes, pushing off the doorway and striding forward, lowering her voice in a passable imitation of Gibbs. "What do ya got, Abs?"

"Timmy's search algorithm kicked out a smaller grid for us."

"Smaller how?"

"Fifty square miles?"

"Yeah, doesn't help much." A.J. snatched the ringing cell phone out of her pocket, answering before the first ring ended. "Shepard…I'm on my way."

* * *

"He's about to call. Tim, you got that trace program set up?"

"Yeah, it's almost ready, I just need another computer for backup." Tim finished typing as he spoke, glancing up. "Ooh, Ziva. You're not using that, are you?"

Ziva stepped back with an irritated sigh, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm being wasted here."

A.J. cut her off. "Z, they can't use you. We're not in Israel anymore, there's more regulations and guidelines we have to follow in American agencies."

"And what are we going to do when Dempsey figures out his brother is dead?"

"We'll get to that when we get to it. Not important right now."

"Trace program is ready, Boss."

Gibbs nodded shortly, staring at his phone.

"Honestly, Gibbs, I am being wasted. Once Dempsey finds out his brother's dead-."

"We don't need the brother. Once we have a location, we take him out."

"All the more reason why I shoul-." She trailed off as the phone rang.

"Okay, Boss, we're connected. Trace starts once you connect the call."

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"_Listen carefully. One car, one agent in the back."_

"Put Director Shepard on."

"_You're wasting time, Agent Gibbs. Time you don't have."_

"Put her on, or the deal's off."

There was a rustle on the other end of the phone, and then Dempsey's voice came as if from far away. _"He wants to know you're still alive. Play nice and you'll stay that way."_

Jenny came through the phone next, sounding vaguely irritated. _"I'm fine, Jethro. Wish I had my coat."_

Dempsey pulled the phone away, his voice sounding over the line again. _"Enough. One car, one agent in the back. Drugs in the trunk. Brian drives. See you in forty-five minutes."_

"Where are we driving?"

"_Leave that to my brother. He knows where."_The line went dead with a click.

"Well, that was even more than less than unhelpful. Why'd you kill him again, Z?"

Ziva narrowed her eyes at A.J., having become somewhat attuned to the spook's moods. "I did not kill him."

"Oh, so sorry. Why did he drop dead in your custody, Ziva?"

"A.J…" Gibbs glared at the blonde, shaking his head. "Enough. McGee, you get that trace?"

"It'll take a while, Boss. He used a V.O.I.P. system. Voice-Over Internet Protocol. Wireless signal converted to analog."

"How long, Tim?"

"Three hours, maybe two if we're lucky?"

"We don't have two hours, Probie."

"Well I know that, Tony, there's not much I can do."

"HEY! Shut it. She said she wanted her coat." Gibbs held up a hand, silencing them all.

McGee frowned. "Maybe she's cold? Somewhere cold?"

"What the hell would she want a coat for?" A.J. turned to look at Gibbs, her eyebrows contracted in a frown. "Oy, Jethro, didn't you give her a coat in Europe?"

"She left it on the plane…She's at an airport!"

"How d'you know she's at an…of course, she's at an airport." Tony hovered over Tim's shoulder, watching as he worked on the trace.

A.J.'s phone rang. "Shepard… Uh huh…yeah. Got it, Abby." She shut the phone, looking over at Gibbs. "Abby's got something."

"DiNozzo, McGee, A.J., with me."

"Why do I have to go?"

"Because you'll run off after your sister if I don't keep an eye on you."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

"Whatcha got, Abs?"

"I got the results back from Brian Dempsey's shoe goo. It's a smorgasbord of Juicy Fruit, chewing tobacco, dog poo…"

Gibbs sighed, giving the forensic scientist a mild glare. "What's the point, Abby?"

"There are also trace elements of diolane and hexylene glycol. It's fire suppression foam. So I'm thinking - a manufacturing plant or a firehouse." Abby bounced on her platforms.

"Abby, they're at an airport."

"…Or an airport! Because they use it on the runway for emergency landings."

Tim perked up at that. "Hang on… you remember a few weeks ago, when that commuter plane had the faulty landing gear?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, we watched on ZNN for hours waiting to see if it was going to crash and burn."

"They diverted it to a small airfield."

"Which one, McGee?"

"Potomac Airport."

Cassie spoke up from the doorway. "We've got the layout, we should seal it off and go building by building."

A.J. shook her head. "Not if Rudd's there. Jenny'll be dead before we finish searching. It's an airfield, Yates. You expect to sneak up on them?"

"We don't have much choice here. Maybe if his brother weren't—"

"If his brother wasn't dead? Yes, we have established that. Thank you." Ziva glared over at Cassie, restrained by a careful hand at her elbow from Tony.

"A.J. and David are right. We go in small. Cassie, Tim, figure out what building they're holding Jenny in."

"How?"

"I don't care!" Gibbs threw up his hands, shaking his head. "Trace the call, find out what planes are leaving, something!"

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs turned to leave, A.J. and Tony following instantly. He turned back, staring at Ziva. "Hey. Hey!"

Ziva looked up, startled.

"C'mon!"

Ziva smiled, hurrying after them.

"Er…one problem, boss. Dempsey wants his brother."

"Then we give him what he wants. Give him his brother."

* * *

"This is the second stupidest thing I've ever done. Wanna know the first?"

_Whack. _ "No, less talking."

"Ah, right, Boss. We should just tape the dead guy's hands to the steering wheel. On it, Boss. Here we go. It's showtime, Bernie."

"Three and eleven." Ziva leaned over the backseat, holding Dempsey's shoulder.

"Two and ten. And that explains a lot. Okay, all right. I need you to hold his head up here, all right?"

"Okay."

A.J. stood next to Gibbs, the phone held to her ear. "You got a location yet, Tim?"

"_Still working on the trace."_

"Yates?"

"_She's ah…still working on the flight plans."_

Gibbs paused in his pacing, leaning over to the phone. "Work faster!"

Tony groaned as Dempsey's body slumped again. "They never had this much trouble with Bernie."

"Who the hell is Bernie?"

"Weekend at Bernie's! It's a cinematic masterpiece. It's a, you know, blend of the comedic and the maca—"

_Whack._

"Thumbs down from the boss man."

Gibbs scowled, glancing between A.J. and Tony. "We're out of time!"

A.J. grunted, waving him off as she held the phone to her ear. "Got anything?"

"_The only non-commercial aircraft cleared to leave from Potomac is from Hangar Number Three."_

"Hangar Three?"

"_Yeah. I'm sending the co-ordinates."_

"We've got it, Gibbs. Hangar Three."

Gibbs nodded, standing over Tony's shoulder. "You sure this isn't the stupidest thing you've ever done, DiNozzo?"

"We're ready to go."

A.J. tossed her phone to Gibbs, walking over to the motorcycle she had 'borrowed' from the Agency. "I'll follow behind you and slip around the side."

Gibbs nodded, grumbling briefly as he clambered into the trunk. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

* * *

A.J. parked the bike around the side of the hangar, slipping a silenced Beretta 92 out of her jacket. She sidled up the side of the hangar, stopping short of the wide open bay doors. Tony had managed to successfully drive the car partway into the hangar, and she could see Dempsey held her sister at gunpoint.

"You! Out of the car!"

Ziva opened the back door slowly, climbing out of the car and making her way towards Jenny and Dempsey.

Dempsey tossed a pair of cuffs on the floor in between them. "Cuff yourself. Hands behind your back."

Ziva hesitated, glancing at the cuffs and then Jenny.

"I said cuff yourself!"

She complied, crouching to pick up the handcuffs from the ground, ratcheting them around her wrists.

"Good. Now lie down." Dempsey shoved at Jenny, jerking her forward as he went to check Ziva. He pulled the gun off of her back, shaking his head. "Very clever."

A.J. took a deep breath, holding her gun out steadily as Dempsey moved closer to her side of the hangar, lining up the shot.

The trunk of the car popped open with a thunk.

"Brian, get the drugs and take them on the pl—." He cut off, stopped short as A.J.'s silenced shot hit his head, crumpling to the floor.

Jenny staggered back, her eyes darting around wildly until they settled on A.J., walking calmly around the bay doors, unscrewing the silencer from her gun.

Gibbs clambered from the trunk, hurrying over to check Dempsey.

"Hey, next time you get kidnapped, can you wait until after I go grocery shopping to do so?" A.J. cut the bonds on her sister's wrists quickly, tucking the gun into the back of her waistband. She slipped an arm around Jenny's shoulders, eyeing Tony extracting himself from Brian Dempsey's lap with a grin. "It's an interesting story, really."

Jenny nodded jerkily, her hands shaking.

"You alright, J?" A.J. ignored Jethro's attempts to reach his girlfriend, tugging Jenny towards the front of the hangar. "C'mon. You look like you're about to pull a Technicolor yawn."

"Didn't think you'd find me in time."

"Whoa, hey, not cool. You doubt my skills?" A.J. stopped, turning Jenny to look her in the eye. "Hey, look at me. You're okay. Dirtbag drug dealers are dead. Who knows, you might get a free plane out of all this, too."

Jenny laughed a little at that, stepping forward to trap A.J. in a tight hug, sniffing.

"Aw, hey, no, don't cry, Jenny." A.J. winced, her arms coming up rather stiffly pat Jenny's back. "Ah, jeez." She glanced over at Gibbs, mouthing a frantic 'help!' once she caught his attention. "Jenny, please don't cry. You'll get my nice leather jacket all wet."

Jethro strode over, leaning down to murmur in Jenny's ear. "C'mon, Jen, let's get you back to NCIS. Ducky wants to check you out."

Jenny sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, her arms tightening around A.J. slightly.

"Hey, kinda can't breathe now, J. You're strangling me." A.J.'s wince became more pronounced as Jenny's grip tightened further. "Ah, hell. She's not letting go anytime soon. Why don't you three head back, and I'll take care of Jenny?"

Gibbs hesitated, the indecision showing in his eyes.

"She'll be fine, Jethro. I'll get her to the car." A.J. pitched her voice low enough to reach Gibbs but no-one else. She glanced around, gaze settling on Ziva. "Oy, Ziva!"

"Yes?"

"You'll need to take the bike back to NCIS. I can't seem to get her to let go." She gestured down to Jenny, who still clung tightly to her torso, her thin shoulders shaking with muffled sobs. "Come on, Red, let's get you to the car."

* * *

Gibbs and Ducky entered Jenny's office silently a while later, looking around the darkened room for A.J. and Jenny, who had disappeared as soon as they returned to NCIS.

Blue eyes met grey as Gibbs saw A.J. sitting on the couch, Jenny sound asleep with her head resting in A.J.'s lap.

"She alright?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

The C.I.A. liaison shrugged, taking care not to disturb her sister. "She's getting there. Thinks her driver's death was her fault."

"Does she appear to have any injuries?" Ducky spoke up next, lowering his voice.

"Rope burns on her wrists. Nothing else that I could see." A.J. leaned her head against the back of the couch, sighing. "She hasn't moved further than a yard away from me since she saw me at the hangar."

"Shock, maybe?" The ME shrugged helplessly. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Last time she latched onto me like this…" The blonde's eyes were like shards of flint. "Well, let's say that it wasn't a happy occasion."

Gibbs nodded, leaning against the conference table. "When your father died?"

Something flashed in the spy's eyes at that, but A.J. tamped it down quickly. "Yeah. And again after she left you in France and one of her new agents died in Cairo."

"So you're not normally this affectionate with each other?"

A.J. raised her eyebrow at Ducky, giving him an arch look. "You've profiled me before, Dr. Mallard. I think you can answer that question yourself."

"I was talking more about your sister, A.J."

She shrugged. "I dunno, Ducky, we've only begun talking to each other again for a few months now. Before then, we hadn't talked in nearly five years."

"And why exactly was that?"

"I didn't agree with her decision to leave Jethro, and told her so. She didn't take to my opinion kindly. I told her to bugger off. She went back to Cairo, and I went undercover in London."

"Ah."

"Yeah, we're just a perfect little soap opera, aren't we?" A.J. chuckled lowly, rubbing a hand up and down Jenny's arm to quiet her when the redhead stirred faintly.

"And you're sure she's not injured?"

"Not that I could see, other than the burns." She sighed, glancing down at her sister. "She'll need to wake up in her own bed, or this'll only get worse. I had to stay with her for two weeks last time."

Gibbs nodded, striding over quickly and picking Jenny up as if she weighed nothing, tucking her head under his chin. "You mind driving?"

"No problem. Your place, or hers?"

"You said she wanted her bed, so head there."

"Aye aye, Gunny."

* * *

A.J. blinked her eyes open, wincing in the half light of the morning. She reached up, running a hand down her face tiredly and shifting a little uncomfortably. Despite the fact that her sister had a king size bed, it was still a good deal uncomfortable when three people attempted to sleep on it.

Jenny had only woken long enough to mumble that she wanted Jethro and A.J. with her before curling up in a ball in the center of her bed. After some silent glare arguing with Jethro over who got what side, the three had settled down for the remainder of the night.

The redhead had moved in her sleep, going from draped across both of them to practically on top of Jethro. A.J. gave the two of them a slightly distasteful look and slipped out of the bed, intent on getting the hell out of dodge before she saw something she didn't need to see. Hearing it once at Jethro's home was quite enough of that, thank you.

A.J. moved silently around the room, gathering her jacket and boots before she slipped out, pulling the door nearly to before slipping one of her discarded socks on the knob, smirking. She turned, heading down the stairs to the kitchen, intent on finding some form of food.

She was humming quietly to herself, flipping omelets in a skillet when Jethro and her sister emerged from upstairs an hour later. Jenny's face was bright red as Jethro cleared his throat, holding up the grey sock with a significant look when A.J. turned to look at them.

"Morning."

Jethro glared at her, grumbling under his breath. A.J. smirked, turning back to watch the omelet for a minute, her free hand reaching out to push two coffee mugs towards the other occupants of the room.

"There's warm omelets and hashbrowns in the microwave."

Jenny moved at that, slipping over to dish out three plates. "A, there's only two omelets here."

"Yeah, I'm cooking mine. Siddown and eat, will ya?"

They complied silently, taking a seat at Jenny's almost never used kitchen table. A.J. turned off the burner after another minute cooking, dishing her omelet onto the plate, taking a seat next to her sister. She moved to take a bite, then stopped, eyeing the table a little distastefully. "Hang on...you two haven't banged on here, too, have you?"

_Whack._

"Ow! Hey! It's a legitimate question, dammit!" She held her arms over her head as Jenny hit her, hard. "Damn, Red, touchy much?"

"Shut up."

"Glad to see you're recovered, then. I can leave the two of you to have sex against every surface of the house and go back to my place and get some actual sleep." She caught Jenny's wrist absentmindedly as the redhead attempted to hit her again, releasing it as if she'd been scalded when Jenny sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Sorry, forgot."

"Don't apologize. Sign of weakness."

"Psh, yeah, right. I just accidentally hurt my sister 'cause I wasn't thinking. I'll apologize if I want to, Gibbs. Now shut up and eat your breakfast."

The ringing of a phone silenced any reply the Marine could make. All three of them looked around, searching for the source of the noise.

"Hang on, I think that's mine."

A.J. stood, shuffling over to the counter, where her leather jacket lay discarded. She fumbled through the pockets, withdrawing a silent phone. "Ah, dammit, it's the other. Son of a bitch."

Jenny stared, confused, as A.J. searched again, finally withdrawing another, cheaper looking phone. She checked the caller ID and grumbled shortly under her breath, flipping it open. _"Da?_"

Gibbs perked up, hearing Russian, but A.J. turned her back and began speaking in another language, ignoring them both. "_Ha portato il pacchetto, poi?"_

Her forehead crinkled in a frown as whoever was on the other end of the line spoke again. _"Sì, sì, capisco. Un mese?" _

A.J. let out an undignified snort, rolling her eyes. _"No, Logan, ho voluto prendere un vacanza. Idiota." _

"_Il pozzo certo ho bisogno di un alias per lui, anche. Siamo impegnati, lei l'idiota!" _

She abruptly switched back to English, a scowl on her face. "Fix it, Logan. You've got three days. I meet with _Il Uno Nascosto_ at the end of the week."

A.J. shook her head at whatever this Logan was saying, a steady stream of swear words muttered under her breath. "No, I can't reschedule a meet, you miserable excuse for a control officer! He's not even supposed to be in the bleeding country! Fix it, now, before I go over your head and pull Banner into this again. You didn't like the results last time; I doubt you'll like them now. And don't _ever_ call me at this number again. You should know better." With that, she snapped the phone shut, leaning against the counter with her eyes closed for a long moment, still muttering under her breath in a steady stream of words. "I work with idiots. I can't do this. I'm going to snap and kill one of them before long. Why do I always get the incompetent ones?"

"Er…what was that?"

She turned, surprised, her eyes flashing with an odd emotion before shutting down. "Nothing. Work stuff. Classified. I have to go."

"A.J.?"

"Glad you're not dead, sis. Gimme a call sometime. See ya later, Jethro. Do try to at least clear the table off before you have sex on it, hm? And please, for the love of all things holy, lock the damn door."

Jenny stared after her sister as A.J. grabbed her coat and phones, disappearing out the door without a sound. "What the hell was that?"

Jethro shrugged, having returned to his hash browns. "How am I supposed to know, Jen? She'll tell you when she tells you. For now, it's need to know, and we don't."

* * *

**May 5, 2006 20:30 Antique Club Yacht Harbor, Fairfax, VA**

A.J. Shepard leaned against the piling of the dock, her eyes flickering around to survey her surroundings before she reached into her pocket, withdrawing a phone. She flipped it open and dialed a number from memory, speaking before the addressee even had a chance to speak. "All clear. The guard is asleep."

A tall, thin man stepped out of the shadows, wrapped up in a long black overcoat. His bald head shone dimly in the muted light of the docks. Trent Thomas Kort. British national. Supposed arms dealer. CIA deep cover agent. The man who trained A.J. when she began her career at the Agency. "Took you long enough, girl."

"Logan took longer than expected to set the covers up. We're good to go, though."

He nodded shortly, rubbing a hand over the unshaven stubble covering his cheeks. "Grenouille still seems to think O'Leary is hiding somewhere in South Africa."

A.J. smiled, slipping her hands into the pockets of her coat. "I'll take care of it. Three weeks, and then things will start into motion."

"Will your sister be a problem? Last thing we need is some overzealous Fed with a vengeful streak mucking up ten months of undercover work. She caused enough trouble in Cairo with that Mossad Officer."

"I can keep her in the dark. Leave Jenny to me."

Kort glanced sideways at her, finally shrugging. "If you say so. She still blame Grenouille for your father's death?"

"I would assume so."

"You don't know?"

"I don't ask. Our father has always been a sore point of conversation between the two of us."

"You didn't like him."

"He left me to be raised by my sister and the hired help after Mum died. How am I supposed to feel?"

Kort shrugged again. "So you don't believe Benoit had anything to do with his death."

"If he did, it was minimal. Jen thinks the world of Jasper Shepard. I don't. Therefore, it's considerably easier for me to accept a case of suicide. Jenny, on the other hand, seems dead set on proving he was murdered."

"And you're sure this isn't going to muck up anything with this op?"

"If you're asking if I'll let my personal feelings get in the way, I won't."

"And your…fiancée?"

"Tim's a good agent. He'll be useful. And, better he be on our side than working under Jenny, where she can use him to hack us and fuck up the op."

"Fair enough. So I'll see you in a month, then?"

"Aye. Same flat, in London. I've been keeping up on the rent. O'Leary still owns the place."

Kort nodded shortly. "Good luck, Shepard."

"You too. Have fun, mate."

* * *

**May 9, 2006 23:49 Washington, D.C.**

A.J. groaned loudly as her cell phone leapt to life, buzzing across the nightstand like a thing possessed. "Oh, for the love of…" She reached over, fumbling blindly in the dark of her bedroom. "Hello?"

"_A.J…" _Jenny's voice was hitching suspiciously, as if she were crying. _"You need to get to Portsmouth Naval Hospital, now."_

"What? What's wrong, Jen?"

A muffled sob, then Jenny took a deep breath. _"Please, A.J…just…I need you."_

"I'll be there in twenty." A.J. hung up the phone, staring at it oddly. What the hell was going on?

She entered the busy ICU wing of Portsmouth Naval half an hour later, grey eyes searching the surrounding area for her sister. There, a flash of red hair standing next to a tall black man in blood covered scrubs. "Jen? What's going on?"

Jenny turned red rimmed eyes to her sister, sniffing as she wiped a tear away, still wearing the dress she'd worn to the White House Ball earlier that evening. "Jethro and Tim…the team was investigating a terrorist threat, checking passports on a Turkish freighter called the Bakir Kamir. NCIS had an agent, Galib, undercover on the ship, trying to find the terrorist before they got to their destination. Tim and Jethro…they were on the ship, supposed to meet Galib in secret. He…the room they were in…it blew up." She sucked in a shuddering breath. "Jethro's in a coma. I—I don't know about Tim yet, they wouldn't tell me anything." Jenny swayed a little on her feet, staggering into A.J.

"Jesus, Jen. Sit down, before you fall down." A.J. set a guiding hand at her elbow, tugging the redhead insistently over to a chair outside what she assumed was Jethro's ICU room. "You sit tight for a few minutes; I'm going to see what I can do about getting you a cot to sleep on and something more comfortable."

She slipped away after Jenny nodded absentmindedly, heading for the nurse's station. "Hey. Miss. Is there any way I can get some fresh clothes for my sister, and a cot?"

The nurse gave her an odd look.

"She's the redhead, sitting down there. Her…ah, fiancée is the bomb blast victim in that room. I think she's in shock."

"Oh, certainly, ma'am."

A.J. chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "Don't call me ma'am, I'm not nearly old enough. I was wondering…do you happen to have the condition on the other victim? He'd be about two inches taller than me, brown hair, hazel eyes. He came in with that guy down there."

"He's out of surgery and into the recovery room. His injuries aren't quite as extensive as Agent Gibbs." The nurse inclined her head towards a closed room two doors down from Jethro's, offering A.J. a faint smile. "He's asleep now, but the sedative should be wearing off. I'll get some spare scrubs for your sister and have a cot moved into Agent Gibbs' room."

"Thanks." She turned on her heel, jogging back over to Jenny, where she knelt in front of her sister. "Hey. Tim's okay, he's two rooms down from Jethro and coming out of the sedative now. The nurse is gonna bring you some scrubs and a cot so you can get some sleep. I'm gonna check on Tim and then I'll be in to see how you're doing, okay?"

Jenny nodded again, her face blank.

A.J. took off her jacket, slipping it around her sister's shoulders before moving away to check on Tim. She paused in the doorway, her eyes cataloguing all the equipment in the room.

Tim wasn't hooked up to a ventilator; he seemed to be breathing fine on his own. His arms rested above the covers, the left one swathed in bandages. "Hey." He spoke in a hoarse, raspy voice, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Hey." She moved from the door, making it to the side of his bed in two strides. "What happened?"

He laughed weakly, coughing when the movement irritated his lungs. "Things went boom."

"Do you remember anything?"

He lifted his right shoulder in a shrug. "Gibbs followed Galib through the ship, I was having a hard time keeping up. They were talking about something when I caught up, and then Galib led us into a laundry. Next thing I knew, Gibbs was tackling me to the ground by the dryers and then…everything goes black."

"You do know you probably shouldn't be telling me this. NCIS needs an official statement."

"And you're my fiancée and I don't give a damn." Tim reached out with his good hand, taking her left wrist and turning it over to reveal a tiny tattooed symbol on the inside of it. He smiled, tapping it a few times with his finger. "You might not be able to see mine right now, but…you, me, us comes first. Besides, for all NCIS knows, I'm still out of it."

A.J. laughed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Fair enough."

They sat in silence for a while, content to simply be together, and then Tim cleared his throat and spoke up. "You think this is what Kort arranged? As a reason for me to leave NCIS for a while?"

"What do you mean?"

He glanced down at his bandaged left hand. "Bad shrapnel wounds. I'll have to do some physiotherapy to get my hand back, which means I can't get my firearms quals from NCIS. I'll have to ride a desk for a while. It's the perfect opportunity for Trent to set up that liaison position like you said."

A.J. considered briefly, then shook her head. "No, I don't really think so. For one, how in the hell did he know you were going to be on the ship? Too coincidental. I'll give him a call, though, you're right. This is the perfect time to pull you out. Not to use my sister's current condition against her, but I think she's a little too worried about Gibbs to be able to stop the Agency from pulling you as a liaison."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah. Best to get you out when she's sufficiently distracted, rather than deal with her when her brain's firing on all motors. She'd get suspicious if she were thinking straight."

Tim nodded slowly in agreement, shifting in the bed uncomfortably. "And you don't have any qualms playing Jenny like that?"

A.J. laughed shortly, shaking her head. "I've done it before. She'll be pissed at me for a while, and then eventually get over it. We do the same thing every time. You sure you don't remember anything else?"

He shook his head tiredly. "Nothing. After Gibbs tackled me, everything went black. I woke up in an ambulance. How is Gibbs?"

"All I know is, he's in a coma. Jenny was too upset to tell me much more."

"Hm. Guess he would've took the brunt of the blast." He shifted uncomfortably again, biting back a moan of pain as the movement jostled his bandaged arm. "Jesus, this hurts."

A.J. discreetly slipped the morphine drip into her hand, increasing the level a few clicks. She watched as Tim settled down, his features smoothing out as the pain medication sent him back to sleep, standing to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Love you, babe. I'll be back later. Get some sleep."

She paused again in the doorway to Jethro's room, eyeing her sister. Jenny had changed out of the red dress and now lay curled up on the bed with Jethro.

"How's he doing?"

The redhead blinked, startled. "What?"

"Is there any change?" A.J. ran a calm, dispassionate eye over Gibbs. Bandages around his head, breathing tube hooked up to a respirator. His face was covered in minor burns, along with his arm. The steady beeping of the heart monitor mixed with the hiss of the respirator, filling the otherwise quiet room.

Jenny shook her head. "He's got a concussion, but no sign of cerebral hemorrhaging… the attending said we won't know anything until he wakes up." She shifted slightly on the bed, making sure not to jostle Gibbs in the process. "Did you find anything on Tim?"

She chose not to mention the fact that she'd already informed her sister of Tim's condition and walked over, talking a seat in the chair by the bedside. "He's alright. Shrapnel wounds on his left arm. Apparently, somebody covered him. As I'm assuming Galib is dead, I'd hazard a bet it was Jethro. He came out of sedation for a bit, but he fell back asleep."

"Did he say anything?"

A.J. smiled at that, laughing softly. "And I quote, 'Things went boom'. End quote."

"That doesn't help us any."

"He was out of it, Jen. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not going to push him now. He said he didn't remember much, and that he was in pain. I upped his morphine and he went back to sleep."

"I talked to the nurse…she said the attending couldn't fathom why Tim had shrapnel wounds only along his arm. It was like he held it out to protect someone."

"Seeing as Jethro has virtually no shrapnel in him, I'd hazard a guess that Tim managed to do some covering of his own."

"How bad are they?"

"Doesn't look good. He'll probably need physiotherapy. He seemed to be in a lot of pain."

Jenny nodded, frowning. "I just…I don't see where this went wrong. They had the intel, Galib was supposed to meet Jethro on the ship and pass on the info about the Abu Sayif terrorists. McGee was there as backup. The terrorists…they must have made Galib, and when Jethro and Tim went after him…"

"A bomb is a relatively clean way of ending someone. Well, metaphorically, anyways." A.J. shrugged tiredly, reaching into her pocket for her cell. "I'll call some of my contacts, have them look into it."

"A.J…there's no evidentiary reason for you to be on this case. I've already broken protocol telling you as much as I have."

"Your MCRT is down two agents, and Logan and I aren't currently on assignment anywhere. Banner owes me a favor. I'll get the two of us lent to NCIS for the duration of this case. If you think I'm going to sit back and let you run this on your own while Tim's injured in the hospital, you damn well better get used to my presence here. I'll be damned if I'm going to sit on the sidelines. Shut your mouth, and let me help."

The redhead managed an admirable impersonation of a goldfish, staring at A.J. wide-eyed. Finally, she nodded jerkily. "Okay."

"Glad you agree with me, but I was kinda going to do that anyways. You're a mess, Jen. It's better to step back a little and let someone else handle this case." She held up a hand, silencing Jenny's instinctive protest. "Ah, no, hear me out. I'm not saying step back out of the case entirely, just…let someone else handle it for a while, and worry about Jethro. You're not going to be much help if your mind's half on him all the time anyways."

"Fine."

"Well, alright then. I'll leave you two to it, and go give Banner a call. I'll be down in Tim's room, if you need me. There's an empty bed, and I need to catch some sleep."

* * *

Jenny stood staring at the rain outside, jerked out of her musings when her cell rang loudly. "Shepard."

"_Yikes." _Tony DiNozzo's voice filtered quietly through the phone. _ "Agent DiNozzo here. Cynthia told me you stayed at the hospital. Is the boss awake?" _

"I am, Agent DiNozzo. You have a sit-rep for me?"

"_I do, Director Shepard. Crime scene's been processed. Evidence tagged. Officer David is questioning the crew with Agent Jackson. We have an I.D. on the suspected bomber. The freighter's radioman, Pin Pin Pula. Filipino. He's suspected Abu Sayif. BOLO's been issued for his apprehension. That is all I have to report, ma'am."_

She sighed, her gaze returning to Jethro. "Agent DiNozzo."

"_Ma'am._"

"I was out of line."

"_You are the Director, ma'am. You cannot be out of line."_

She laughed a little at that, still focused on the comatose man in the bed. "Please. I was bitchy. Let me apologize. I'm sorry."

"_If I may state an opinion, ma'am."_

"Fire away."

Tony laughed quietly. "_Never apologize. It's a sign of…"_

"…sign of weakness." Jenny smiled sadly as she completed his sentence with him. "I was his partner too, Tony. I know all the Gibbs-isms"

"_Actually, he borrowed that one from the Duke."_

"John Wayne."

"_Said it to Joanne Dru in 'She Wore a Yellow Ribbon'."_

"Jethro's a lot like the Duke."

Tony's laugh filtered through the line again. _"I keep waiting for him to say 'That'll be the day'."_

She smiled, laughing softly. "He said that to me in Paris once, when I told him I…" She swallowed heavily, trailing off. "When we worked together."

If DiNozzo noticed the slip, he didn't let on. _"Shouldn't he be up yet?"_

"You know Gibbs, he keeps his own schedule." She continued watching Jethro as she spoke, reaching out to hold his hand lightly. "You know what REM is?"

"_Sure. Rapid Eye Movement. Happens when you're asleep and dreaming."_

"That's what he's doing right now."

"_Oh, well, that's got to be a good sign, right?"_

"If it isn't a nightmare."

"_Huh. How's Pro—ah, McGee?"_

"Asleep now. He wasn't as bad off as Je—Gibbs. Shrapnel wounds to his left arm and hand. The attending thinks he must've been covered by Gibbs."

"_Yeah, well, Gibbs always was a little over protective."_

"Uh huh. I'm sending my sister and her partner along to help you and Ziva out. Agent Jackson has to get back to Norfolk, he's the senior agent in charge there."

"_Your sister know McGee's hurt?"_

"And why would that be relevant?"

Tony snorted shortly, his amusement discernable even through the phone. "_Not to point out the obvious, but Tim and your sister have been seeing each other for a while now, Director."_

"She knows. She's been in to check on him, and wants to help out on the case. I'm not going to refuse a little free help if it improves our relationship with the Agency."

"_Righto. I'll fill her in when I get back to NCIS. Is there anything else you need, ma'am?"_

"Just keep me updated."

"_On it, Director. DiNozzo out."_

* * *

A.J. sat on the edge of McGee's desk when Tony returned to NCIS, a thin, black haired man with an odd looking scar down the side of his face standing next to her. "Hey, Tony."

"A.J." He tossed his pack down with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Who's the other spook?"

"Logan James. Though they don't normally assign partners our branch of the Agency, he's the closest thing I've got."

Logan nodded in greeting, his face impassive.

"Do you have anything yet?"

"Suspect's name is Pinpin Pula, which means…"

"Rice Paddy Dike in Tagalog. I know. I speak nearly as many languages as Officer David."

"Right. Well, anyways. He's suspected Abu Sayif. He's the radioman, and is now missing. Ducky has Galib downstairs in autopsy, and Ziva is bringing in Captain Mahir of the Bakir Kamir."

"Ooh, Turkish. Your speciality, Shep." Logan glanced sideways at his partner with a grin.

"As it would be if he spoke Italian, Russian, Spanish, Portugese, or French, smartass. You're not helping. Go help."

"Aye aye, ma'am." He rolled his eyes and glanced over at Tony. "What would you like me to help with, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Can you take this evidence down to the lab? Take the elevator two floors down. Lab tech's name is Abby Scutio. She'll be waiting for it."

He nodded shortly, taking the box Tony handed over and disappearing to the back elevator.

"How's McGee?"

"You already asked my sister that. You're deflecting."

"I meant…you know what I meant."

A.J. shrugged. "In and out of it. You might be able to get a lucid statement from him later today. He's in pain, but I think it's getting more manageable."

"And Gibbs?"

"Gibbs is Gibbs. Comatose, hooked up to a respirator. Burns on his head and arms."

"And the Director spent the night at the hospital."

She grinned. "Well, yeah, they're sleeping together. What did you expect?"

"I didn't need to know that."

"Ah, but you wanted to." A.J. held out a paper to him. "Talked to some of my contacts. Abu Sayif plans to infiltrate the Cape Fear, a SeaLift munitions transport. I'm guessing now, that Mr. Rice Paddy Dike is their way in. They plan to blow the thing sky high when it meets with the Marine Expeditionary Strike Force Eight in the Red Sea. If Pinpin Pula is anywhere, he's on that ship. It sailed for the Red Sea early this morning."

"How'd you…nevermind. You wanna go help Ziva with the interrogation of the Captain? I get the feeling she doesn't like him. And, you speak Turkish."

"I do so hate it when I'm sent to babysit."

"Don't think of it as babysitting, per se. You're…helping deal with a difficult suspect. The Captain is hiding something. You're good at reading people. Go find it."

A.J. eyed him speculatively, frowning. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were telling me what to do."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

"_Misiniz için beni ateşe giysinizi, bunun yerine?" _Ziva's voice issued coldly out of the interrogation room.

Mahir sat back in the chair, a small grin on his grimy face. "Are you Turkish? Perhaps your father or grandfather was Turkish? Before they came to America?"

"She's not Turkish." A.J. swung the door open, glaring at the Captain. "And you're a dirty pig who enjoys money."

"Who…who are you?"

She smiled rather evilly at that. _"Ben sizin en kötü kabusunda, vatan haini." _

Mahir paled, glancing over at Ziva again. "Perhaps Greek? Greek Cypriot! It would explain your understanding of Turkish and hating me.

Ziva laughed shortly. "I doubt Cyprus would have a liaison officer in the U.S…but you are getting warm."

"Liaison?"

"From the French word 'lier' which means to bind. In this case, bind NCIS and Mossad. She's Israeli, you lying sack of shit." A.J. leaned against the wall, her arms crossed.

"_Tanri!"_

"_Çok geç, Yüzbaşı." _Ziva smirked, leaning back with a satisfied look on her face. "I have your dossier. Another French word."

Mahir held up his hands helplessly, scooting his chair back. "I am not a terrorist! I did not smuggle weapons into Palestine. I swear it!"

"Or Hamas suicide bombers into the port of Ashdod?"

"Mossad blames me for that, too?"

"And much more."

"Now look! I am not a terrorist! No Wahabi! No jihad!"

"You profit from it, though." A.J. pushed herself off the wall. "For which, by all rights, I ought to let Officer David here shoot you."

Ziva tapped her fingers against the edge of the table, leaning forward. "Fortunately for you, Captain Mahir, Politique Pratique had suspended Israeli reprisals against all but terrorists. And you say you are not a terrorist."

"I swear by God!"

Ziva slammed a folder full of photos down, glaring at him. "Convince me."

"Show us Pinpin Pula."

* * *

**May 10, 2006 22:30 NCIS Headquarters, Washington, D.C.**

"Jenny called. Gibbs is awake."

Abby squealed, jumping up and down. "Yay, that's great!"

A.J. shook her head. "There's a slight problem…"

"What? What's wrong with Gibbs?"

"He's got some memory loss."

Abby nodded. "That's totally normal. Retrogressive amnesia is expected after a severe trauma like this."

Tony grinned. "Happens every time the boss slaps me on the back of the head."

"Well…this is a bit more than retrogressive amnesia. Gibbs thinks it's 1991."

"He doesn't know he's an NCIS Special Agent?"

A.J. shook her head. "He didn't recognize Ducky. Or my sister, for that matter."

"Well if he didn't recognize Ducky, then there's no…" Abby trailed off, her face devastated.

"He'll never remember us."

"Yeah…slightly bigger problem, though. We've got an Abu Sayif terrorist on the loose."

"How is that a bigger problem? Gibbs doesn't remember us!"

"Hey. Look. Personal feelings aside, Abby, we've got an investigation to finish. Right now, Gibbs isn't our first priority."

_Slap._

A.J. staggered back, holding a hand to her jaw. "Feel better?"

Tony lunged forward, catching Abby by the elbow. "Abs…Now is _not_ the time. A.J.'s right. We need to find this guy."

Abby jerked her arm away from Tony, striding over to the plasma screen, where she snatched up the clicker. She scrolled through a few files, finally coming up with the picture she wanted. "What if these were Gibbs' guts splashed all over the wall? Or Tim's?"

A.J. folded her arms over her chest, pointedly avoiding the screen. "Well, if it were Gibbs, I expect it'd be more coffee brown than red."

"Abby!" Tony wrapped his arms around her middle, stopping the forensic scientist from lunging forward to go after A.J. "Enough! We need to focus on the case! If you can't handle that right now, then go do whatever you need to calm down. Meet back here in half an hour."

* * *

Logan leaned against the wall of the elevator, glancing sideways at his sometime partner. "You getting a bed feeling about this too?"

"I've had a bad feeling since I woke up a day and a half ago when my sister called me to go to the hospital."

"I haven't been able to get anything else from our contacts. So far, nothing on Pinpin Pula."

A.J. rubbed at her jaw, wincing at the light bruise there.

"Why didn't you hit her back? Anyone else hit you, you'd have them dead on the floor in an instant."

She smiled, shaking her head. "Not worth it. Abby's upset. I may be able to tamp down my emotions, but I've been trained to do so. She can't do that. Also, Gibbs looks at her like a daughter. I think killing her might put a bit of a damper on things, eh?"

He grinned faintly, leaning forward to start the elevator again. "So you're good?"

"As good as I'll ever be. Let's go."

* * *

**May 11, 2006 10:45 Portsmouth Naval Hospital**

"Jethro?"

Gibbs came awake, staring around in confusion. "Shannon?"

"No, Jethro. It's me, Jenny." She sighed, her eyes sad. "You still don't remember me?"

He frowned, closing his eyes for a moment. Flashes of memory passed through his brain. The same woman standing in front of him, with longer hair, moaning under him in a hot bed. Kisses, caresses, and a strange, overwhelming emotion in his chest. Love? Did he love her? He couldn't love her! He loved Shannon, and Kelly.

Gibbs blinked a few times, shifting in the bed uncomfortably. "Maybe."

Jenny frowned, deciding to prompt him with a few bits of info. "I'm Jenny. We were partners."

"After Shannon died."

"Yes." The frown shifted to a smile. Maybe he _did_ remember her!

"Did I marry again?"

She had to grin at that. "Yes. Three times."

He blinked, surprised. "No way!"

"Afraid so."

Gibbs frowned. Wait a second…no, she couldn't be. "You're an ex-wife?"

She forced a laugh at that. "Oh, God no. I'm the Director of NCIS."

Huh. Clearly, this woman wasn't who he thought she was. "For a moment there, I thought you were somebody else."

Jenny leaned in, meeting his gaze squarely. "You remembered us making love, didn't you, Jethro?"

He swallowed heavily, letting out a slow breath as he shifted in the bed again, making a show of straightening the sheets out.

"At least that's a start." She paused after a long beat, reaching over to grab the file folder Tony had left for her. "Do you recognize this man?"

Gibbs took a moment to discreetly check her out when her back was turned, resorting to staring back up at her when she handed him a photo. Who was he? Flashes of memory filtered through again. A passport? He grunted, pushing himself up further in the bed again, nodding. "It's like… a name on the tip of my tongue, and I can't remember!" His eyes darted wildly, fingers gripping the picture tightly.

"Calm down, it'll come, Jethro."

He brushed her concern off, glaring furiously at the picture. "It's important, isn't it?"

Jenny glanced at him again, indecision warring in her mind. This was obviously upsetting him. "Yes, very."

Gibbs was getting more agitated, shifting around in the bed more. "It's life or death, right?"

"Don't get upset, Jethro, you won't remember."

"Give me a name!" There, for an instant, was the old Leroy Jethro Gibbs they all remembered, commanding and authoritative.

"Pinpin Pula."

He shook his head violently. "No, no, that's not it. That's not his name. That can't be his name."

Jenny frowned, narrowing her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"No! I'm not sure!" He turned the glare on her, gripping the picture between his hands as he tore it up, furious. "I don't remember! How can I be sure?"

The doctor…Gelfand was his name, he thought, slipped in. "What's going on?"

Jenny looked afraid, backing away from his bed. "I—it's my fault."

"His blood pressure is spiking…Maria, give him ten milligrams of morphine. Agent Gibbs, your blood pressure is spiking. You ne-."

"I'm not Agent Gibbs! I don't know Agent Gibbs! I don't want to know Agent Gibbs!" He fought against the doctors, reaching out and latching onto Jenny's arm. "I want my family. I want Shannon. I want…Kelly." He groaned as Gelfand finally managed to inject the morphine into his IV, falling back against the bed. "I miss them. I miss them so much…"

Jenny fought back tears as he turned his head into the pillow, muffling sobs. She gave Gelfand a significant look and followed him out of the room, swiping at her eyes quickly.

The doctor sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to tell you, Jenny. He's been trying to catch up on the past fifteen years watching television."

Jenny muffled a sob in a choked off laugh, sniffing. "Jethro hates television."

"Doctor Mallard was still a stranger to him when he visited earlier."

"He doesn't remember being an NCIS Special Agent at all. And he still doesn't know me. Ducky worked with him years before I did."

"Yes, but who an amnesiac remembers depends on their prior relationship. Your sister mentioned that the two of you are seeing each other. He may…"

Jenny shook her head. "He thought I was an ex-wife. The only thing he remembers of us is…well, you know."

Gelfand smiled slightly, chuckling. "Well, it is a start. You said you got in contact with Agent Franks, and he talked to Gibbs. Maybe he can shed some more light on things? He said he'd be back tomorrow to talk with him again."

She sighed, nodding. "I just…I don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell him about us, in the hopes that he'll remember, or…"

"It's better for him to remember things himself. If you prompt him that could tamper with the memories."

Jenny nodded, swallowing heavily. "I guess all we can do is just…wait, then."

"Afraid so. You said you also wanted to speak with Agent McGee? He's awake and doing better today, according to Maria."

"I'll go have a talk with him, then."

* * *

"Agent McGee?"

Tim glanced up as Jenny spoke from his doorway, discarding the paper and pen sitting in front of him. The physiotherapist he'd met with earlier had suggested working on writing right handed, until they were able to begin exercises with his left hand and arm. "Hello, Director."

"Jenny, please." She smiled a little sadly at that, walking over to sit in the chair by his bedside. "At least you remember me."

"Gibbs still not remember anything?"

"He thinks it's 1991."

"Ah." He shifted awkwardly, reaching out to pat her shoulder in a halfhearted attempt at comfort. "I'm sure he'll remember you eventually, Jenny."

"Yes, well…" Jenny sighed, thumbing the edge of the file in her hands.

"You came for my statement."

"It might…we're trying to clear a few things up."

"Okay. I can tell you what I remember, but…it's not much."

She shrugged, pulling out a tape recorder. "Just start from the beginning, Tim."

"O—okay. Well…Bo—Agent Gibbs and I were on the freighter, the Bakir Kamir. We were following up on a tip that an Abu Sayif terrorist was on board. NCIS Agent Abog Galib was undercover amongst the crew. We were supposed to arrest him in front of the crew, but…" Tim frowned. "Hang on…he ran. Galib ran. The plan was to arrest him in front of the crew, get the intel from him, and catch the terrorist. But…Galib ran from us, when we scanned his passport, called it a forgery. A—Agent Gibbs went after him first. I followed, but got a bit lost in the passageways of the ship. By the time I reached Gibbs and Galib…they were talking about something. I didn't hear. The next thing I remember is Gibbs tackling me to the ground…and then everything went black. I woke up in an ambulance on the way here."

"And you're sure Galib ran?"

He nodded sharply. "Definitely. That's why it took us so long to get after him. We weren't expecting him to run."

"We've managed to get a name for the terrorist out of the ship's captain. Do you recognize this man?"

Tim frowned, confused, as Jenny held out a picture of Galib. "That's Agent Galib."

"What?"

"That's Abog Galib! That's the guy we chased through the ship."

"Tim…he can't be. This is the radioman, Pinpin Pula. He's a known Abu Sayif terrorist."

"No. He had Galib's passport. He…" McGee trailed off, staring into space. "He told us. He thought that bomb was gonna kill us."

"What? What are you talking about, McGee?"

"Galib—Pinpin, whatever the hell his name is. That's what he meant. He told us…they plan to blow up the Cape Fear. It's a Sealift munitions transport. It's supposed to meet the Marine Expeditionary Strike Force Eight in the Red Sea. He told us the whole plan, and we thought…he's got Galib's passport, Director. You have to stop him."

"Galib's documents are vetted to get him on any crew in the world."

"Shit." Tim sat up, jerking the IV out of his arm and moving to the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Gibbs has to remember. I can't remember everything. He needs to remember!" He fumbled, jerking the jeans A.J. had left over his hips, discarding the hospital gown.

"Tim, no, wait!"

"Call A.J. and Tony! Get eyes on that ship! He's going to blow it up!" McGee was headed determinedly towards Gibbs' room, ignoring the protests of the nurses as he made his way through the ward, barefoot and shirtless.

* * *

Gibbs came awake as a tired looking, shirtless man rushed into his room. "Who the hell are you?"

The man ignored him; shoving the same picture that Jenny woman had showed him earlier in his face. "Abog Galib, right?"

He sat back, stunned. Clips, flashes ran through his mind like a cheap B-movie reel. The same shirtless man, sitting next to him on a dingy ship, scanning passports into a computer. McGee. Chasing Galib through the ship. Talking to him in the laundry, about the Sealift Command and Abu Sayif's plan. "McGee."

Tim gave a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. "You remember."

"That guy…he told us he was Galib. You and I chased him…he's going to blow up Sealift!"

"Jethro?" The redhead stood at the door, clearly confused.

"Jenny. Jenny Shepard. You're the Director." Gibbs glanced around frantically. "Where are my clothes? I need clothes."

"I'll get some scrubs for you, Boss." Tim turned on his heel, heading out the door.

"You need to call people, Director. Get some eyes on that ship." He squinted over at the calendar by his bed, frowning. "The Cape Fear is due to meet up with that Strike Force later today!"

* * *

A.J. snapped her phone shut, standing with Logan near the entrance to the garage. She moved forward as a black SUV pulled up, watching as Tim got out of the back, walking next to Gibbs. Both men wore slings to hold their injured arms in place. Jenny exited from the front passenger seat, phone to her ear as she spoke rapidly.

The CIA Agent fell into step next to Tim and Gibbs, speaking quietly. "DiNozzo's upstairs in MTAC. Deputy Director Welsh is stonewalling. We've got the Cape Fear and the strike force on satellite."

Jenny let out a low growl, her voice raising. "The Cape Fear is loaded with twenty thousand tons of munitions, Deputy Director Welsh. If that frigate signals a heave to and prepare to be boarded, Pinpin Pula will blow the Cape Fear! Nobody will survive!"

She bent to scan them into MTAC, hanging up the phone as she came into view of the screen.

Welsh was talking. _"If he's on board, and if he's a suicide bomber."_

Tony rubbed his hands over his face, exasperated. "You're risking nineteen civilian lives on 'if's', Director Welsh!"

"_In the Med, he can explode near a cruise ship. Nineteen will seem an acceptable loss."_

"No death is acceptable when it's unnecessary!" Gibbs brushed past A.J. and Tim, walking down to stand in front of the screen.

Jenny joined him, standing by his side. "Deputy Director Welsh, Special Agents Gibbs and McGee."

"This terrorist isn't after a cruise liner." Tim spoke up next, slipping down to join Gibbs.

"_Islamic terrorists love soft targets."_

"No…he wants the Marine assault ship the Cape Fear is replenishing in the Gulf."

"_You don't know what he wants! He's a terrorist! A cruise ship, the Suez Canal…"_

Gibbs threw his hands up, bellowing at the screen. "He _told_ me!"

Welsh raised his eyebrows, giving Gibbs and McGee a skeptical look. "_He told you?_"

"Pinpin Pula is an arrogant son of a bitch! He thought the bomb he'd planted would kill us."

"_So he's not a suicide bomber?"_

Gibbs glanced over at the video feed of the ships, gesturing frantically. "For God's sakes, order that frigate to break off!"

"_I can't do that."_

"Is _everyone _up there as STUPID as you? Pinpin Pula is on the Cape Fear! He's the radio man! He intercepts every BOLO we send out and replies 'No Pinpin here'!"

"_We've got that, Special Agent Gibbs. That's why we didn't communicate with the Cape Fear until…now."_

Gibbs glanced around, noting one of the Navy Commanders on screen. "Jeff! Thank god you're there! Can you get your SEALs onboard without being seen?"

Commander Fletcher nodded. _"We can execute a HALO insertion in ten hours."_

Welsh shook his head sharply. "_The Cape Fear will have entered the Med. That's unacceptable. If anything happens, it'll be on tourist video camera."_

"The sailors on the frigate have cameras, Director Welsh!" Tim stepped forward, agitated.

"_We can confiscate those videos."_

"What?" Gibbs' voice dropped to a low hiss, before rising to a roar again. "You don't want this being seen?"

"_An accident at sea is better than an act of terrorism."_

"It's too late!" He pointed at the ships on screen, which were meeting in the middle. "You _bastard!_"

* * *

"I was wrong."

Jenny frowned, confused. "You weren't wrong."

He ignored her, staring down at the tumbler of bourbon in his hands. "I was angry at Mike. I never understood how he could quit." He paused, setting the glass down and standing. "Until now."

"J—Jethro? What are you doing? You said you remembered."

"Not everything. There's too many gaps." He shrugged, his hand on the door. "Besides…I'm not going to sit by again and watch as the higher-ups sacrifice a few good men to protect their image."

* * *

A.J. watched as Jethro made his way down the stairs from her sister's office quietly, walking through the bullpen and over to his desk. He leaned over, opening the drawer where his gun and badge usually rested.

Tony cleared his throat, grabbing the items from his desk. "Oh, I got them, Boss. We got them from the medics when they took you and McGee."

"Appreciate it." He stepped around the desk, surveying the items in his hands before looking up at Tony. "You'll do." He pushed the gun and badge back into the Italian's hands, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder lightly. "It's your team now."

Tony gaped at Gibbs silently as the silver haired man turned around, meeting A.J.'s gaze next. "You're a good agent, for a spook. Keep an eye on your sister for me, will ya?"

A.J. inclined her head in agreement, smiling slightly. "Will do."

He nodded, turning to Abby.

"Gibbs…"

"Shh." He hushed the Goth, placing a finger over her lips as he leaned in, kissing her cheek.

They all watched as he crossed the center of the bullpen, stopping in front of Ziva. He leaned in and whispered something softly in her ear. The Israeli smiled slightly.

"Good luck, Ziver."

"You too, Jethro."

That left one person in the group other than Ducky he hadn't addressed. "Tim."

McGee shifted his sling slightly, straightening his posture. "Yeah, Boss."

"You're a damn good agent. Don't ever let anyone tell you any different."

"I won't, Boss."

Gibbs smiled, gripping his shoulder lightly. "I owe you, Tim."

McGee's lip pulled up in a tight grin. "Maybe I'll collect sometime, Boss."

A short nod, and then Gibbs walked over to the ME, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Give me a ride home, Duck."

"Sure." The two men turned and walked towards the elevator in silence.

A.J. glanced up, her eyes falling on Jenny standing on the landing of the stairs, tears streaming down her face.

Gibbs turned back, giving them all a short salute. "Semper Fi."

* * *

"You're letting him leave?"

Jenny barely turned to acknowledge her newest visitor as the blonde followed her into her office. "I really hate it when you follow me."

"You're crying. What'd he say?"

She shook her head.

"Why is he leaving, Jen?

"Just drop it, will you? Leave me alone." Jenny sank down at her desk, the tears already starting anew.

"Fine." A.J. spun and left, inexplicably irritated by her sister's complete shutdown.

The redhead waited until her door slammed shut before she let the tears come, muffling sobs into her hands.

Jethro didn't remember her, didn't remember _them._ She sucked in a shuddering breath, her hand rising up to absentmindedly trace the dog tags that hung around her neck.

Well. If he didn't remember, then there was no use in her trying to force it. She wasn't going to stand in his way.

She slipped the chain over her neck, reaching down and slipping it into a small drawer in her desk, locking it after. Out of sight, out of mind.

* * *

**May 16, 2006 09:38 NCIS Headquarters, Washington, D.C.**

Jenny stared across her desk at Sean Banner, Section Head of the Special Projects Division at the CIA. He was a relatively unassuming man, 5'11", salt and pepper hair, green eyes hidden behind wire framed glasses. "You're saying you want Special Agent McGee as a liaison."

"To be frank, you're not using him, Director Shepard. He won't be able to requalify for his firearms license here at NCIS until he completes physiotherapy, which means you'll have him riding a desk. We have a few extremely sensitive ops going on right now that we could use a seriously skilled tech agent like Agent McGee for. We've leant you A.J. Shepard three times now." Banner leaned back in the chair, his hands clasped in his lap. "I rather think it's time NCIS shows some co-operation, yes?"

"A sort of…'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'?" She smiled wryly, tapping her pen on the paper sitting in front of her.

"I wouldn't phrase it in those terms exactly, but that is the general idea."

Jenny sighed, reading over the form again. "You're certain he'll come to no harm?"

"Absolutely not. We'll have him working in our operations center back at Langley. He'll only be running the tech side of the ops."

"And it's only intended as a liaison position? I can terminate this at any time?"

"If you need him back, yes."

She gave the form one last critical look, signing her name in the required places.

Banner stood as she handed him the form, smiling as he extended a hand to shake. "Well, thank you very much, Director Shepard. I'll alert Agent McGee, and we'll have him moved over to Langley by the end of the day."

Jenny nodded numbly, sinking back down at her desk. She couldn't help the sinking feeling that she'd just been outmaneuvered.

* * *

The ringing of a cell phone cut through the silence of the London flat.

"This is Kort."

"_Le Voleur d'Eclair d'opération est un va."_

The tall, thin, bald man smiled, nodding shortly. _"_Confirmed. I'll see you two in London tomorrow."

* * *

**_A/n: there you have it, folks. this chapter serves as the set up for the next few updates. sorry about leaving you hanging, it's the most I can give you all right now without revealing everything. _**

**_Translations, for the non-linguistically inclined:_**

**Italian:**

"_Ha portato il pacchetto, poi?" (He got the package, then?)_

_"Sì, sì, capisco. Un mese?" (Yes, yes, I understand. One month?)_

_"No, Logan, ho voluto prendere un vacanza. Idiota." (No, Logan, I wanted to take a vacation. Idiot.)_

"_Il pozzo certo ho bisogno di un alias per lui, anche. Siamo impegnati, lei l'idiota!" (Of course we need an alias for him, too. We're engaged, you moron!)_

_Il Uno Nascosto (the hidden one)_

**Turkish:**

"_Misiniz için beni ateşe giysinizi, bunun yerine?" (Would you like me to set fire to your clothing, instead?)_

_"Ben sizin en kötü kabusunda, vatan haini." (I'm your worst nightmare, traitor.)_

"_Tanri!"(God help me!)_

"_Çok geç, Yüzbaşı."__ (Too late, Captain.)_

**French:**

"_Le Voleur d'Eclair d'opération est un va." (Operation Lightning Thief is a 'go'.)_

_**Hope everyone has enjoyed this. Reviews are always welcome.**_

_**-meg**_


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/n: Hello there! Long time, no see, huh?_**

**_Here's the next update for Tale of Two Shepards. _**

**_Spoilers for Season 4, Episode 1 'Shalom'_**

**_Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. :(_**

* * *

_9. From Above_

**September 9, 2006 London, England **

"I _hate_ physiotherapy." Timothy McGee, alias Seamus Meehan, slammed through the door of the London flat of one Rose O'Leary, also known as A.J. Shepard.

"Well, gee, Seamus, tell me how you really feel."

"That doctor don't know the half of what he's doing! It's a _shrapnel_ wound, not a stinking wrist sprain!"

"Aye, but he's also the only doc we can pay to get your hand fixed and back in operating order, Shea."

The undercover agent muttered under his breath, scrubbing a hand through the short box beard covering his upper lip and jawline. "I don't care, Rose. He's not helpin', and my hand works damn fine on its own."

"Ah, right, I forgot where only being able to make half a fist to punch someone means your hand works fine."

"Oh, just shut it, would you?" He jerked his suit jacket off, leaving the shoulder-rig holster of his gun on as he sank down on the couch. "Givin' me a damn headache."

Rose grinned, shifting over on the couch so she lay draped over him provocatively, grey eyes meeting hazel. "We're going out of the country for a few days, Shea."

"Out of the country where?"

"Central America. I thought we could use a vacation, love."

"'Course you did." He rolled his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "And when are we leaving?"

"Tonight." She reached out, taking his left hand and tracing her fingers over it gently. The back of his hand and much of his left forearm was covered in scars, some overlapping each other, in sizes of varying degrees. "Does your hand hurt?"

He laughed weakly, lifting his head long enough to give her a significant look before he let it fall back again. "It always hurts, Rose. They extracted enough metal to cover a sheet of paper." He shifted, tensing the damaged muscles in his hand long enough to form a tight fist. "But…we did accomplish something today."

* * *

**September 10, 2006 23:00 Unidentified Beach near Baja, Mexico**

A.J. Shepard glanced around in the muted moonlight bathing the beach and the run-down shack in front of her. She'd left Tim asleep in their hotel drugged up on painkillers; the flight from England had only seemed to aggravate his injury.

_There_. Her target lay sound asleep in the hammock out in front of the house, his raspy snores rumbling through the warm night air.

She crept closer, making good use of the loose sand around the shack to muffle her footsteps.

Damn. He really had let himself go since she'd last seen him. His silver hair was long and shaggy, while the entire lower half of his face was covered in a thick beard.

Eh, well. Bigger they are, the harder they fall.

A.J. leaned over, clapping a tight hand over his mouth, her other one pressing a gun into his chest. "Try and take me out, and we'll figure out just how bulletproof Superman is. I'm going to take a step back. I want you to get out of that thing, _quietly_, and follow me. Nod once if you understand."

Jethro Gibbs glared at her with slightly bloodshot blue eyes and then nodded stiffly once.

"Good. Let's go." She kept the gun trained on him as they walked down the beach, stopping a good ways away from the shack.

"What do you want, A.J.?" Gibbs sounded tired and exasperated, his hands jammed in the pockets of the cargo shorts he wore. "And would you put the damn gun away?"

"No. If anybody sees us, I'm just a thief trying to break in to your miserable excuse for a hideaway. Shut up, and sit your ass down."

He gave her an arch look, and then collapsed down to the sand with a pronounced thump. "There, happy?"

"Well, actually, no. But that's not relevant. What the hell are you doing down here?"

"I'm retired."

"You didn't retire, you_ quit_. And you left my sister to pick up the pieces in the process."

"Who the hell cares? It's her damn job anyways! She's the Director. I can't keep cleaning up her messes for her."

A.J.'s eyes flashed in the dim light, and then she lunged forward, pinning him on his back with a well placed knee, holding the gun _dangerously _low at his waist. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you for breaking my sister's heart."

Gibbs stared up at her, his blue eyes wide in genuine confusion. "What the _hell_ are you talking about? She left _me_, in Paris! That was seven years ago, dammit!"

"Oh, son of a bitch." The spook lapsed off into a long stream of cursing under her breath, switching through four different languages before she returned to English. "You don't remember."

"No…what the hell am I supposed to remember?"

"_Dios maldita sea."_ She abruptly stood, letting him up as she tucked the gun into her waistband. "Nothing. Forget I asked."

"I'm still missing something, aren't I?"

A.J. chuckled hoarsely, tilting her head in a half nod. "You're missing quite a few somethings. It doesn't matter. You need to remember it on your own terms."

"What am I supposed to remember?"

"It'll come, give it time." She eyed him up and down, laughing quietly as she shook her head. "You really did go native, didn't you?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes in a glare. "Why are you here, A.J.?"

"What do you know about the Reynosa Cartel?"

* * *

**September 11, 2006 09:00 Ensenada, Mexico**

"Wake up, Meehan."

He startled awake, jerking the gun out of his shoulder holster and pointing it around. He didn't recognize that voice. Hazel eyes met blue, then darted to the grey eyes of the woman standing behind the new occupant of the room.

"Seamus, put the gun away, love. He's one of ours." She gave him a significant look. "Liam Gibson. He'll be working with us for a few days."

"You can't think to warn a bloke? Christ, Rose." He slipped the gun back into its holster, swearing under his breath. "What's he doing here?"

"You remember that little problem we had a few months ago? That meeting in Mexico City that we had to cancel?"

"Aye." Tim scrubbed his hand over his face as he climbed out of bed, already casting about for fresh clothes. "What's that got to do with him?"

"I've got a business meeting. Gibson knows the people on the other side of the table."

"Of course he does." He massaged at his sore hand irritably, scowling. "Nice to meet you, Liam. Seamus Meehan, though you already know that."

Gibbs grinned at his old probationary agent, sticking out a hand to shake. "Good to see you, Meehan."

* * *

"It's safe to talk normally here." McGee sank down on the park bench, making sure to adjust his jacket so it covered the gun hanging at his ribcage. Gibbs took a seat next to him; tugging at the somewhat tight fitting suit he'd borrowed, to replace his cargo shorts and t-shirt.

"You look good, Tim."

He laughed shortly, his left hand tensing on his knee. "I'd say the same, but you look a little…well, native, Boss."

"Ah, I'm allowed. I'm retired now; you don't have to call me Boss. Jethro or Gibbs is fine."

"Your injuries seem to have healed well."

"Yours haven't."

Tim smirked, his eyes darting around the park, a force of habit now since his time with A.J. "Yeah, well, shrapnel can do that to a person."

"Mm hmm." He stretched slightly, tired from an hour and a half drive from Mike's place in the middle of the night. "You didn't know A.J. was going to get in contact with me."

"Nope."

"You're angry."

"No…I just don't appreciate being woken by someone I don't expect. It's hard enough to remember to call her Rose sometimes, without adding more to it."

"Sorry, Tim. I should've let her wake you."

"It's fine, really. I've got to get used to it some time."

"You two absolutely sure your hotel room is bugged?"

"No. Better safe than sorry, though."

Gibbs glanced sideways at the former tech agent. Tim had a new confidence to him. He stood straighter, moved like he owned the room, rather than following. The beard covering the lower part of his face leant a few years in age to a young-looking face. He dressed impeccably, in neutral colors, spoke quietly, and didn't seek to draw attention to himself. Sometime in the five months since he'd last seen him, Timothy McGee had turned into a damn good undercover agent. "You still need a place where you can be you, Tim."

"We've got a place. It's safe. We can go there to be ourselves for a while, get away from being Rose O'Leary and Seamus Meehan and go back to being Tim McGee and A.J. Shepard. That was the first thing we made sure of, when we went on this op."

He nodded, grunting in agreement. He could vaguely remember doing much of the same thing with Jenny in Europe.

"Did she fill you in?"

"Just explained that I needed to call you Meehan and her Rose or O'Leary and said she'd made a burn alias for me."

"Mmmhmm." McGee removed a lighter from his pocket, absentmindedly flipping it open and closed. "Other than the murder investigation involving your family, what do you know about the Reynosa cartel?"

"How do you…?"

"Know about your family? Hacked your file after the case with that Navy Captain who had his wife and daughter kidnapped. The blind little girl? Sandy Watson. You said something…to the Captain, when we caught him in the bank lobby with the money. Something about throwing away what he had. In my experience, you don't make that sort of comment unless you know how it is to lose something like that." Tim glanced sideways at Gibbs and shrugged. "I would apologize, but I know how you feel about that sort of thing, and I also know that it's the last thing you wanna hear."

"You knew, all this time, and said _nothing?"_

"It wasn't my place to."

"Does anyone _else_ know?"

"A.J., but she knew from Jenny, not me. Nobody on the old team knows, if that's what you're asking." He clicked the lighter again, staring silently at the flame. "Now. The Reynosa Cartel."

"Not much. The man I knew, Pedro Hernandez, is missing."

"Dead."

"How…you should really stop hacking things."

Tim smiled. "Learned from the best. And it's not hacking, per se. It's…gaining unauthorized access."

Gibbs turned to meet the hazel eyes of his one-time agent squarely. "You know who killed him?"

He nodded. "We both do. A.J. had her contacts research Hernandez after the Reynosas mucked up a deal we were trying to bust a few months ago." Tim slipped a hand inside his jacket, removing two photos. "Hernandez had two children, a son and a daughter. Twins. Alejandro Riviera, and Paloma Reynosa. Alejandro runs the governmental side of things. Paloma is the new family head."

"You know who killed Hernandez, and you're doing nothing."

"You had a reason. And, if we're going on that line of thought, A.J. and I should turn each other in, we've both killed people." McGee met his gaze again. "Drop it, Gibbs. Out of sight, out of mind."

"So why are we here again?"

"The Agency has sanctioned a…removal of the Reynosa twins. Rose O'Leary needs to be the only arms dealer operating down here."

"Hang on…the Reynosas are into drugs, Tim."

"Not anymore. Paloma is eerily business savvy. She figured out that running guns and drugs was a better use of her time and manpower."

Gibbs nodded after a long beat. "Squash out the competition. What are you and A.J. running?"

"That's need to know. Suffice to say, it's long term, and involves a lot of logistics. All you need to know is that we need to remove the Reynosas from the picture."

He sighed, and then nodded. "Fair enough. Where do we start?"

* * *

"We're meeting Riviera and Reynosa in a small town called Rancho Cepeda. Shea, you have that contract we drew up."

"Yeah. We're all set to go, Rose."

"Right, then." A.J. led the way out of the hotel, immaculately dressed in a business suit and blouse, looking every inch the wealthy socialite she pretended to be.

They slipped into the black SUV, Tim driving. "Gibbs…the Reynosas think it'll only be A.J. and I there. You're to stay back, slip in unnoticed, and give us the advantage of surprise. They've got two guards on the villa we're meeting at. Presumably, one will come in with us. Just take the other one out and get in there."

Gibbs nodded shortly, taking the silenced gun A.J. handed him. "What are we doing about the car?"

"Park it some distance away. The rental's registered under a burn alias. There's an extraction point set up three miles away from the meet. We get there, and they pull us out."

* * *

Gibbs bit back a sigh as he crouched in the darkened backyard of the villa A.J. and Tim were staying at. He couldn't help the tingling feeling in his gut. Something wasn't right.

He'd taken out the first guard silently, snapping his neck and hiding the body in the shadows on the side of the garage. The second guard had indeed followed A.J. and McGee inside, probably as a precautionary measure.

As far as he could tell from his conversation with McGee earlier, Seamus Meehan had quite the reputation as a hired gun in the underground circles. Rose O'Leary seemed to be an old cover of A.J.'s, if the amount of leeway she was getting from the Agency was any indication.

He still couldn't fathom what she had meant the day before, when she'd shown up at Mike's place, looking intent on killing him. From what he could discern from a few muttered answers on their drive to meet McGee in Ensenada, he clearly didn't remember everything from before the explosion. A.J. blamed him for something, definitely.

_BANG._

"Shit!" He scrambled forward, caution thrown aside as the gunshot echoed from the villa. This _definitely_ wasn't part of the plan.

He blasted through the unlocked back door, sprinting into the living room with his gun drawn, his eyes darting around, taking stock of the situation.

A.J. lay on the floor, a pool of blood steadily spreading from her middle. McGee and Alejandro Riviera were missing from the room. The guard lay dead on the floor near A.J., a thin knife hilt sticking out of his neck. And Paloma was…

"_Hola, Senor Gibbs." _The deafening click of a gun cocking behind his ear made him freeze in place.

_Fuck._

* * *

"So, you work for the C.I.A. now, Senor Gibbs?"

"What do you want, Paloma?"

"You killed my father, and then you join a two-bit operation to try and kill me."

He shrugged, deciding it was better for now to remain silent. He still had no idea where McGee was, or Riviera. A.J. moved occasionally, holding a towel Paloma had thrown on her over the wound in her thigh.

"Two-bit? How are we two-bit?" A.J.'s voice was weak, but she still managed to raise it enough to be heard.

"You only came with two as backup, O'Leary. Or, whatever it is that your name is. I know you and your associate Meehan are not Irish arms dealers."

A.J. coughed, grinning weakly. "Aw, really? How'd you guess?"

"Enough talking. I do not know why he is here with you, _Negro Subió_, but you have brought me a surprising gift, and for that I thank you. I regret the need to shoot you, although you should bleed out soon enough, if that is any consolation."

"And what are ya gonna do with me?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Sure, you can kill me for killin' your daddy, but that's not gonna help, is it?"

"You _killed_ my father! He was everything to Alejandro and I. _Everything!_ And you don't even have a reason for killing him."

"Back pocket."

"What?"

"You want my reason, Pa-lo-ma? Back pocket. It's in the billfold."

She glared, leaning forward to fumble his wallet out of his back pocket. Two pictures tumbled out.

"Ah…is this your reason, then? Your little _puta roja_?" She snickered, holding a snap of himself and Jenny, although she wasn't the Jenny he remembered, with a short haircut rather than the long tresses he was used to.

_What the hell?_ He shook his head, brow furrowing. "No…the other one." Why in the world did he have a picture of he and Jenny in his wallet? They were over, had been for years.

Paloma narrowed her eyes, crouching to pick up the other, much more worn picture. "_Ah, su familia. ¿Piensa mostrarme una imagen de su niña me parará de poner una bala por la cabeza?" (Ah, your family. You think showing me a picture of your little girl is going to stop me putting a bullet through your head?)_

"No…but I think seeing a bullet go through your brother's head ought to stop ya." Tim's voice came from the door. He held Alejandro in a chokehold, his right hand pressing a gun into the man's temple.

"_Hermana, por favor. ..he no es valor." _Alejandro was pale, limping a little, as if someone had stomped on his foot repeatedly. (Sister, please…he's not worth it.)

"He killed Papa! He deserves to die, the scum. I do not care for his reasons."

"Paloma…please, _hermana_." Alejandro swallowed convulsively.

Paloma Reynosa glanced between Gibbs and her brother, indecision warring on her features. The hesitation cost her life.

Gibbs gaped as Paloma's open mouth suddenly seemed to grow something shiny and silver. She gagged, falling to her knees and then to the ground.

"Never leave a dead body with a knife next to a killer, _idiota._" A.J. spoke up dryly from the floor, her arm extended out in a throw.

"Paloma! You killed my sister!"

Tim barely moved, pressing his palm flat against the side of Riviera's head and twisting sharply. "Correction. We killed you _and_ your sister."

"What the hell happened?"

A.J. groaned in pain as Tim knelt at her side, moving her to a sitting position leaning against the couch. "The guard got suspicious when I stood to hand over the contract, shot me. Shea tackled Alejandro and knocked him out of the room, I killed the guard, and Paloma caught you."

McGee's jaw clenched in anger as he pulled his belt off, whipping it around her leg as a tourniquet. "We need to get to the extraction point, now." He stood, walking over to cut the ties holding Gibbs to the chair. "Let's go. We can take one of their cars. Grab Rose, get her to a car. I need to stage the scene."

Gibbs nodded silently, grabbing the two pictures and his wallet before making his way over to A.J. "Ready?"

"Oh, just get it over with already. It's going to hurt like a bitch regardless." She grit her teeth, sucking in a sharp gasp of pain as he lifted her up, holding her against his torso.

She gripped his arm tight enough to bruise as he started walking, the movement jarring her leg. "_Fuck_."

He hushed her, running a soothing hand over her shoulder to quiet her. "It'll be over in a minute."

"Can't go one damn op without getting injured, can I?"

"Shh…you'll be alright. Wrap your arms around my neck a minute." Gibbs shifted his grip on her, jabbing keys into the lock of a dark grey Mercedes Benz C Class.

"Oh, I see how it is. Jump straight from my sister's bed, hope you can slide into mine?" She dug her nails into the back of his neck, hissing in pain as he shifted his grip on her again.

"You're not my type." He finally managed to unlock the car, jerking the back door open. "Careful…dammit, woman, watch it!" He cursed loudly as she managed to knock his head against the doorjamb in the process of using him as a crutch to get in the car.

"Oh, shut it, you liked it." She collapsed in the seat, swearing under her breath. "Dammit to hell, this hurts."

"Meehan's staging the scene."

"I heard. Get the car started, we're not going to want to be here much longer."

McGee scrambled into the garage moments later, a small bag in his hands. He slipped into the passenger seat quickly. "Go, go now. I shortened the timers."

"You staged the bodies correctly?"

He nodded shortly. "For all the Federales know, the Reynosa Cartel tried to kill a young up and coming Mexican government official." He reached in his pocket, withdrawing a knife and turning to hand it to her. "I figured you'd want this. It's been cleaned."

"Where's this extraction point?"

McGee opened his mouth to give him directions, when A.J. cut them off. "No. We have to assume someone figured out we're in the country. She knew we were spooks, and she knew we'd put a hit out on her. We can't go there. We need somewhere to regroup, so I can find a way out of here without botching the op."

Gibbs grunted, turning the wheel to send the car in a 180. "We're going to Mike's place, then."

"We need to ditch this car. That was Riviera's villa. Once they find it and realize one of his cars is missing…it won't be good."

He nodded shortly. "I can get us a car. Where do you wanna get rid of this one?"

McGee shrugged, reaching into the pocket of his coat, where he withdrew a small black case. "We've got one charge left. I'll tank it once we ditch it."

* * *

"Mike!" Gibbs slowed the 'borrowed' truck to a stop, raising his voice enough to wake the ex-NCIS agent. "Mike, get your lazy ass up."

"Jesus, Probie, it's 23:15! You said you'd be gone for half a day, not two days."

"Plans changed. Camilla's on her way, we've got injured."

Mike frowned after his longtime friend. "Hell, Probie, what'd you do? You told me you found a pretty lady."

"You called me pretty? Aw, I'm flattered." A.J. chuckled weakly from her position in McGee's arms.

"Jethro…" The ex-NCIS agent's voice was a low growl. "What the hell are you bringin' into my little slice 'o heaven?"

"We'll be out of your way in two days tops, Franks." McGee carried A.J. inside, settling her down on the kitchen table. "You don't mind if we use this, do you?"

"What the hell's goin' on?"

Jethro sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. "Op went bad, Mike. A.J.'s been shot. We need to get her some medical attention."

"Then take 'er to a damn hospital!"

"Can't."

Franks groaned audibly, throwing his hands up. "Great. One of _those_ ops."

They listened as he disappeared towards the road, muttering under his breath.

"I'd say he gets better, but that's the Mike Franks I've always known."

"Hah. You're kidding." The blonde rested her head back against the tabletop, shaking her head. "You sure this Camilla lady can help?"

"No, but she can get me what I need to close that up."

Tim froze, staring at Gibbs. "Hold on, wait…I thought you said she was sort of like the nursemaid around here."

"Meaning she deals with Franks when he's being an ass and makes sure he gets himself fed." Gibbs turned on his heel and headed outside as a soft voice called through the night.

"Son of a bitch."

A.J. reached up, gripping his hand. "Tim…it's not worth it. At the very least, we're getting some help. You need to call Trent. He can arrange a jet for us."

"We're not to use this phone unless…"

"Unless we've no other option. I can't get on a commercial plane like this, babe. We'll be stuck here for weeks if we wait for this to heal. Call Trent, give him a sitrep, and tell him to get us a jet to London at the nearest airfield."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're sending me to do this because you don't want me here when he closes up the hole in your leg?"

"Because that's my plan." She pushed at his abdomen playfully, being the only part of him she could reach. "I'll be fine. Gibbs knows what he's doing."

He sighed, withdrawing the phone from his pocket and glaring at it. "For the record, I'm doing this under protest."

"'Course you are. Now, go."

Tim sighed, leaning down to kiss her gently. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now, seriously, go." A.J. rolled her head on the table as he left, cursing their situation.

Gibbs appeared silently from the doorway, his hands full of supplies. "He really does love you, you know."

She snorted, laughing weakly. "What are you, Dr. Phil?"

"Who's Dr. Phil?"

A.J. groaned, letting her head fall back against the table with a 'thunk'. "Nevermind. How are we doing this?"

He sighed, coming over to the table with his supplies, setting a thin, flat metal instrument down, along with gauze, a beaten up lighter, and what looked like half a bottle of tequila. "Cauterizing it's the fastest way to close it and shut off the blood vessels."

"And you would know this…how?"

Gibbs smirked faintly, turning and lifting his shirt enough to reveal an angry red scar just above his right hip. "Shrapnel wound in Panama. I was trapped in the jungle. Locals found me, burned the wound shut after they got the hunk of metal out. Couldn't move for three weeks. Took half a year to learn to walk without a limp."

"You know, your bedside manner _sucks_."

"Yeah, that's what they all say." He shifted behind her, sitting her up enough to rest against his torso. "How well do you normally hold your alcohol?"

"Hard liquor? I'm not as much of a lightweight as my sister, but I generally prefer beer. Why is this relevant?"

He grabbed the bottle, pushing it into her hand. "Drink at least half of that."

A.J. raised her eyebrows but complied as he moved, cutting her slacks away at the wound. "Damn…this stuff's got some kick."

"That's the intent." He grabbed the bottle from her, setting it down out of their reach before he unlatched his belt, using his pocketknife to cut a section of the leather off. "You'll want to bite down on this."

"Again, I reiterate, your bedside manner _sucks_."

He laughed quietly, flicking the lighter twice to start the flame, holding the metal instrument in to heat it.

A ways down the beach, Timothy McGee grit his teeth and turned away from the shack as a pained scream echoed into the night.

* * *

**September 14, 2006 07:50 Undisclosed Air Field near Ensenada, Mexico**

"Well, I guess this is it, then." A.J. leaned heavily against McGee, holding her weight off her right leg.

Gibbs nodded, leaning against the door of Camilla's brother's truck, which he had borrowed to get the two agents to their extraction point. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Hey…Tim, can you give me a minute?" She jerked her head towards Gibbs. "I'd like to talk with him. Alone."

Tim glanced at her, nodding. He helped her over to lean against the truck and then disappeared up the gangway into the plane.

"About earlier this week. When I dropped by Franks' place the first time."

Gibbs held up a hand, shaking his head. "Don't apologize. Sign of weakness."

"Well, I wasn't going to apologize, really." A.J. turned her upper body, staring him down.

"You still think my memory's not all back."

She smiled faintly, moving back to leaning against the truck, staring off at the plane. "I _know_ your memory hasn't returned."

"And how would you know that?"

"How is it that you remember me, and know who I am, yet you didn't recognize Ducky or my sister?"

"I saw you after Tim talked to me. My memory is back, and fine."

"No, it isn't." She reached around him, slipping his wallet from his back pocket. She opened it, thumbing through and withdrawing the same picture of he and Jenny Paloma Reynosa had shoved in his face two days previously. "When was this taken?"

He shrugged. "Sometime in Europe."

"No, it wasn't."

"Well, since you seem to know my memory better than I do, why don't you tell me?"

A.J. smirked, withdrawing a printout of a newspaper article from her jacket pocket. "The two of you were caught by a tabloid reporter three days before the explosion sneaking away from her security detail to get coffee at 1900 hours. Jenny pulled some strings and had it repressed, but not before the two of you had copies of the picture made."

"Why would I be with Jen? She has a detail of her own." He squinted, trying to read the small type of the article. "Hang on…this is what you meant earlier, about me breaking Jenny's heart."

She nodded silently. "I'm not normally one to interfere, but she is…or, well, was happy with you."

"Why didn't she _say_ anything?"

"Your idiot of a neurologist told her it'd be better if she didn't feed you the memories. Jenny figured you'd sort it all out on your own. She thought letting you come here would be a good break."

"Dammit…why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I'm never usually one to interfere in my sister's life. Last time I did, we didn't talk for four years."

He frowned, narrowing his eyebrows, the memory of he and Ducky talking to A.J. in Jenny's office.

_**"I didn't agree with her decision to leave Jethro, and told her so. She didn't take to my opinion kindly. I told her to bugger off. She went back to Cairo, and I went undercover in London."**_

"The two of you had an argument, just after she left me in Paris. That's why…I got a phone call, while I was undercover in Russia, but Stephanie answered the phone. It was a Cairo phone number. Steph said whoever it was on the other end of the line sounded like they were crying for a second…and then they hung up."

She glanced over at him, surprised. "You remember that?"

"It was always a weird nagging little thought in the back of my head that whole op. You don't tend to forget things like that, people calling you and hanging up. I ended up moving us to a different flat and changed the phones. Thought someone'd found us out."

"Huh."

She sighed as Tim stuck his head out of the doorway, nodding. "We've got to get going back to London. I've been away for too long as is."

Gibbs nodded, still puzzling through the new set of memories brought to the forefront of his mind.

"Jethro."

He glanced up, meeting her eyes.

"I know you'll still need time to sort all this out…just, don't take too long. The two of you, you deserve to be happy."

He nodded shortly, slipping an arm around her waist to help her to the gangway, where Tim stood waiting. "Good luck."

"Have a nice little siesta down here, Jethro. Keep an eye out and an ear to the ground."

"Always." Gibbs reached out, gripping Tim's shoulder. "Take care of each other. You've got to have each others' back, just like any partnership. Be safe."

"Will do." Tim helped A.J. up the stairs quietly, ensuring she didn't strain her injury.

A.J. turned back one last time in the doorway, catching his eye. "Hey, Jethro."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't see anything."

His face creased in a wide grin. "Haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Exactly. Bye, Gibbs. Tell Franks I owe him a case of tequila."

* * *

**September 16, 2006 10:45 NCIS Headquarters, Washington, D.C.**

Ziva David sat at the conference table in Jenny's office when the redhead arrived. Jenny shut her office door slowly, frowning at her long-time friend. "Officer David."

"Jenny."

"I take it this isn't a case-related visit, then."

The Israeli smiled enigmatically, shaking her head. "No."

She sighed, setting her briefcase down and leaning against her desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing. A few of my contacts, in Central America, sent me some…interesting information this morning."

"Interesting?"

Ziva stood, walking over with a flash drive in her hand. "Interesting."

Jenny took the drive, plugging it into her computer and grabbing the clicker to pull the information up on the plasma. "Why are we worried about Central America? None of our old ops concerned it, and NCIS has nothing there currently."

"If I may?" She reached out for the clicker.

The redhead shrugged, handing the remote over. She stared as Ziva brought up what looked like crime scene photos. "What is this?"

"That is what is left of a mid-level Mexican government official's summer home. His name is Alejandro Riviera. His villa was blown up five days ago. The incinerated remains of four bodies were found in the ruins. Riviera, one of his aides, an unknown man, and this woman." Ziva tapped the next button on the clicker, pulling up another photo. "Paloma Reynosa."

"She's the head of the Reynosa drug cartel. Or…well, I guess she was."

The Israeli nodded, continuing. "All but one of Riviera's cars were accounted for when the Federales began processing the scene. But, I shall come back to that. Riviera had a very high end security system installed in the villa. The system was offline for much of the evening of the explosion, which is odd, but, this is stranger. All the cameras in the main room of the villa were specifically disabled at around 18:45 that evening, local time. Much of the security footage burned in the fire resulting from the explosion, but the Federales were able to save these three stills, of the garage. Time stamp puts them directly before the explosion."

Jenny stared at the three grainy, distorted images displayed on the plasma. Two featured the back of a man with long, shaggy grey hair, supporting a blonde haired woman. Both faced away from the camera. The final still showed a second man emerging from the house. Dark haired, what looked like a beard covering the lower half of his face. "I don't really know what you're getting at, Ziva."

"I am getting there, Jenny. Hold on." Ziva isolated the third picture, before continuing. "This man, is now top on a Mossad wanted list for arms dealing. Seamus Meehan. Irish national, gun for hire. Suspected of working with the Black Rose."

Jenny sucked in a sharp breath. "Rose O'Leary. We nearly had her, that one time in Paris, right before I came back here to take the Director's chair."

"Exactly. My contacts are unsure as to why Meehan or the Black Rose would go after the Reynosa cartel, but…rumor has it that Paloma Reynosa was getting into the arms business. The Black Rose has had her hand in gun running down in the Central American region. Perhaps a hit?"

"This is good. This could get us closer to the Black Rose. And subsequently, closer to La Grenouille."

Ziva nodded. "Unfortunately, this is the only photograph of him we have currently. He is apparently what Tony would call a 'slippery customer'."

"Is it enough for facial recognition?"

"No."

"What about the car?"

"It was found burned out two towns away. No evidence."

"Damn."

The Israeli nodded. "It is not much, but it is a start." She took the flash drive back, heading for the office door. She turned back at the last second. "About that…thing you asked me to look into."

"Yes?"

"My contacts traced the forwarding address to a Wayne Johnson living in a small town on the coast of Mexico near Baja."

Jenny laughed softly, shaking her head. "I should have known. He went to Franks."

"Cell phone is still disconnected, though."

"I'm not surprised." She sighed, running her fingers through her short hair in frustration.

"Jenny…"

"Yes?"

"If you do not mind my asking…why are you so keen to contact Gibbs? He retired."

"He…" The redhead swallowed. "I owe him a favor."

Ziva raised her eyebrows. "Gibbs does not strike me as the type to ah…change in on favors."

"Cash in, not change."

"Right. You know what I meant."

Jenny shrugged. "I don't know, Ziva. I just…it's stupid really. Probably a waste of time." She sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Thank you, for the information. I'll see if I can get anyone on our end onto this Meehan angle."

"Not a problem." Ziva reached out again, grabbing the door and swinging it open. "Shalom, Jen."

"Shalom, Ziva." She sank down in her chair as Ziva left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Jenny rested her chin on her fist, gazing off into space. So Jethro was hiding away in Mexico. It was clear that he still didn't remember them. She sucked in a deep breath, and then reached out for her phone. "Cynthia? Get me Agent DiNozzo, please."

* * *

**September 19, 2006 08:56 NCIS Headquarters, Washington D.C. **

Jenny Shepard was drowning.

Five months since she'd lost two of her best agents. Five months since she'd had a civil talk with her younger sister. Five months since she didn't feel like she was going to fall as she woke in the morning.

Five long, bitter months.

Despite the calm, cool, and collected front she presented to the rest of the world, she was slowly slipping down the spiraling slope to no return.

_Five _months. She'd figured it would take maybe a month or so for Jethro to regain his memories.

Obviously not. Via Ziva's Mossad contacts, she'd learned that Jethro was camping out on a beach in Mexico with retired Special Agent Mike Franks, probably drunk on beer and smoking like a chimney.

And now Ziva was wanted for questioning by the FBI.

She groaned, setting her head in her hands for a few moments to collect herself. This was going to be a long day.

"The question is, what would Gibbs do in a situation like this?" Tony's lowered voice filtered over the bullpen wall.

"He'd find her, Tony."

The Italian gave her an irritated look. "I'm _working_ on it, Director!"

"Work harder. Metro Police just found her car on a sidewalk in Georgetown."

Tony's face relaxed back into a slight smile, his eyes sparking with amusement. "Actually…that's not all that unusual, when Ziva's driving."

"I know, I drove all the way through Eastern Europe with he-." She trailed off as the elevator doors opened, admitting two men. One, she wasn't exactly surprised to see, but the other…

"Jethro?"

"Fornell?"

Her and Tony's inquiries clashed as they spoke simultaneously.

Jethro smirked briefly, his eyes twinkling. "Jenny. DiNozzo. Tobias tells me you've got a problem."

"How…okay, this is weird, because you really do have some freaky Spidey sense, Bo—Gibbs." Tony scratched the back of his head. "And why the hell is the FBI here?" He glanced sideways at Jenny, who still stared at Gibbs as if she'd seen a ghost. "You knew about this?"

Jenny started abruptly, blinking as she tore her gaze away from Gibbs. "I…they called ten minutes ago. Calm down."

"Yeah, DiNozzo, this is bound to be a better meeting than our last one." Fornell grinned, drumming his fingers along the side of his coffee cup. "So, shall we, Director Shepard?"

* * *

Jenny sighed heavily, staring out the window of her office as Tony stalked out angrily after Fornell, clearly displeased with her decision to hand the investigation over to the FBI.

The sound of her office door opening and closing again pulled her from her thoughts.

"I really missed that view." Jethro's voice was low, tinged with something she didn't quite recognize. "Harbor's nice, too."

Jenny turned, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a sad smile. "Wasn't expecting to see you."

"That's the point behind unannounced visits, Jen." He slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "What are you gonna do about Ziva?"

"NCIS can't help her."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here."

"I shouldn't even be having this conversation with you."

"Anyone asks, two old partners catching up."

Jenny bit back a snort of laughter. "My agency has been harboring a foreign operative for over a year, one that I personally vouched for and insisted we needed."

"Tony doesn't think she did it. Hell, I don't think she did it, and I don't know what the hell's going on."

"You think I don't know that? I'm just telling you what they're saying on the Beltway. I give it twenty four hours before they ask for my resignation."

Gibbs came around her desk to lean against the windowsill, tanned arms folded across his chest. "Don't give it to them."

"How can I justify that, when Ziva's in this mess?"

"Look…give DiNozzo and I time to figure this out. She was set up, we just need to figure out who and how."

"Jethro…"

"Look, I'm retired. There's nothin' anyone can say, if they don't know I'm investigating." He leaned forward, catching her eye. "I need a favor."

"Name it."

"Go home. Take a little break. I know your schedule is clear. You've been here for three days running ops in MTAC. Go catch up on some sleep."

"Jeth—I don't…" Her eyes widened in realization. "Plausible deniability."

"Yeah. Something like that." Gibbs grinned faintly as he stood, heading for the door. He paused with his hand resting on the knob. "Jen?"

"Hm?"

"I remember."

She froze, halfway through reaching over for her phone. "What?"

"I remember." He turned around, leaning against the door. "And I probably should've remembered sooner."

Jenny swallowed, sinking down at her desk. "Jethro, we don't have to do this n—"

"I wasn't sayin' we do have to do it now, I just felt that you deserved to know that I do remember." The corner of his mouth pulled up in a brief smile. "I'll bring ya dinner once this is done."

She could feel herself nodding numbly, and then he was gone.

He remembered. For the first time in months, Jenny Shepard's face turned up in a bright smile.

He _remembered_.

* * *

"…_Terrorist believed to be responsible for the death of two of their agents. Two other terrorists were also killed in a standoff with Federal authorities in Northern Virginia."_

"Federal Authorities. They mean us! Four stinkin' letters. N.C.I.S."

Jenny smiled faintly. "It's either that story, Tony, or the FBI charges you with interfering in an investigation."

The Italian's shoulders slumped. "I can live with federal authorities."

She laughed, turning her gaze to a tired looking Ziva, with a split lip and a bandage across the bridge of her nose. "Welcome back, Ziva!"

Ziva returned the faint smile. "Well, I would not be here if it were not for Gibbs."

Tony straightened abruptly, chipping in. "And me."

The Israeli smirked, inclining her head in a slight nod. "True…but it was mostly Gibbs."

"Speaking of…?" Jenny tried and failed to hide the hopeful tone in her voice.

"Went down to Autopsy, said he needed to talk to Ducky."

* * *

The cool metal doors of Autopsy slid open with a swish as she exited the elevator, revealing Gibbs sitting on a table, deep in conversation with Ducky. They both looked up as Jenny entered.

"Hey, Jen."

"Jethro, Ducky."

"Nice to see you, my dear. Tea? Jethro has refused, he always did prefer coffee, but…"

"Tea would be nice, Ducky, thank you."

The ME smiled, giving Gibbs a significant look before he retreated to the other side of the room to prepare the tea.

"You thought I was leavin' again." His low voice startled her out of her thoughts.

"What? No, I was just—"

He chuckled softly, hopping down from the table. "Checking to see if I'm really still here. I get it, Jen. I'm not leaving anymore. I was actually on my way up to talk to you about coming back out of retirement." Blue eyes surveyed her as he tilted his head to the side. "Besides, I still owe you that dinner."

* * *

"Chinese okay?" He poked his head in through her open office door half an hour later, two bags of Chinese takeout in his hand.

Jenny smiled, slipping her glasses off and setting the file she had been reviewing down. "You know me, I'll never say no to some good Sesame Chicken."

Jethro grinned in response, moving over to her couch, where he began setting out the containers. "I got you steamed rice instead of fried, too."

She settled down in the armchair across from him, smiling, touched that he'd remembered. "You remembered."

A vague flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes, before he ducked his head, dishing out fried rice and Sechuan Chicken for himself. "Yeah, Jen, I remember."

"Well…it's good to see you."

"Good to see you too."

She smiled, taking a bite of a spring roll as her gaze flickered over him. "Although…well, I haven't seen your hair that long since Serbia. A whole week, with nothing to do but…"

"Yeah, that little farmhouse while we were undercover."

"It looks nice."

He shrugged, running a hand through it. "Probably need a cut, though."

"Well, at the very least, your beard could do with a trim."

"Heh…yeah." Gibbs sighed, setting his chopsticks down. "Look, Jenny…I shouldn't have left, not like that, but…well…"

"You were hurting, thought it was still 1991, and Shannon and Kelly had just died. I understand, Jethro, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay. It took your sister coming down and knocking some sense into me for me to realize what I've been missing."

"Wait…A.J. came to Mexico?"

"She had an op to run in the area." He shrugged evasively. "Regardless…well, I'd like to come back, if you'll have me."

Jenny laughed, her eyes twinkling as she stood to get a file from her desk, tapping her finger on the edge of it. "Funny thing about that."

"Oh?"

"See…I thought I'd filed your retirement package, but, well, apparently I put in for your unused leave time instead."

Jethro raised his eyebrow over the rim of his beer bottle. "Did you now?"

"Seems so. You have a month and a half left, or…you could take the Psych Eval and requalify for firearms and get your old team back."

"Guess I've got some work to do, then." He relaxed back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "What about you 'n me?"

"Well…I'm the Director, and providing that you pass your evals, you'll be the Supervisory Special Agent of the Major Crimes Response Team again."

He lifted his head long enough to give her a level look. "Not what I meant, and you know it."

Jenny swallowed, taking a deep breath. "Well, I…I don't know." Truthfully, she didn't know what they were going to do. She'd been the happiest ever those months with Jethro, but his whole margarita safari hurt more than even Jenny herself wanted to admit.

Jethro sat up, meeting her gaze squarely. "Look. I realize I hurt you leaving like I did. I'm not makin' excuses for that, but…I'd like the chance to try again. A.J. said you were happy, and I know I was happy. I just want that again."

She blinked rapidly and stared down at her lap, twisting her fingers together. Was he really back? She almost felt like it was too much to hope for, and here he was asking for another chance. After a long moment of silence, she finally looked up with a watery smile, meeting his earnest gaze. "That your backwards way of saying you're sorry?"

Hours later, curled contentedly into his side on the couch in her study, Jenny Shepard smiled as her fingers curled into the cool metal chain of his dog tags, secure around her neck once more.

Right now, everything was looking alright to her.

* * *

**_A/n: Well, there you go!_**

**_Um, Chapter ten is halfway outlined. Next month sometime? _**

**_Who knows, the muse is being difficult._**

**_-meg_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_a/n: And, I return after a long hiatus! Yay!_**

**_*cue cheers, etc.*_**

**_ANYways, this is a little teaser chapter to tide you over until I put the finishing touches on the next big plot twist (that will probably be posted within the next hour or so)_**

**_Spoilers: Season 4_**

**_Disclaimer: nope, not mine. I just borrow them occasionally._**

* * *

_**10. Intermission**_

**January 18, 2007- Villa outside of Portofino, Italy**

"Jesus Christ, you beat me by 114 points." A.J. sank back against the couch of the tiny Italian villa, taking a long swig of beer from the bottle gripped in her free hand. A simple platinum band flashed on her left hand, matched by a larger version of the same band on her partner's hand. They were both on a slightly abbreviated honeymoon after tying the knot at a small ceremony in London, with Trent Kort present as a witness.

Tim McGee laughed triumphantly, punching his fist in the air. "Yes! When I play Scrabble, the tiles arrange themselves in my mind automatically. I am a Scrabble CYBORG!"

"Ooooookay, that's enough drinks and Scrabble for you, Terminator." She lurched to her feet, taking his seventh empty beer bottle out of his raised hand. "Time for bed."

Her very drunk newly minted husband frowned rather adorably, pouting as he glanced at the clock. "But it's only 2130!"

A.J. smirked, already heading for the bedroom, her shirt flying through the air to land on Tim's lap. "Who said we're sleeping?"

McGee grinned wolfishly, chucking the shirt away as he scrambled after his wife, his own shirt joining hers on the floor as the bedroom door slammed shut.

* * *

**January 20,2007—Abandoned warehouse in Fairfax, VA**

"Oh, this is charming. Did Jack the Ripper live here?" Tony DiNozzo's disgusted whisper echoed in the dilapidated warehouse as he followed Gibbs and Ziva into the dimly lit gloom, his SIG out and ready.

Ziva bit back a snort of laughter, rolling her eyes at Gibbs. "I do not see anything here, Gibbs."

"Yeah, neither do I."

There was a loud crash and a yelp from behind them, making both agents turn rapidly, bringing their weapons to bear, until Gibbs dropped his arm with an irritated sigh. "Dammit, DiNozzo, could you be any louder?"

"Rat, Boss. Slimy, icky, diseased rat." The Italian's normally tan and exuberant face was pale and sweaty. "I hate rats."

"It's just a cute little rat, Tony. Why the irrational fear?"

"It's not cute, it's not little, and it's not irrational."

Ziva smirked. "Cowardly, then."

"Not if you're uh, someone who's survived a bout with pneumonic plague, thank you very much. Rats are a known carrier."

"Ah, hell, DiNozzo, ya gonna keep beatin' that plague kick? You're fine, the rat's not diseased, he's covered in oil. See?" Gibbs rolled his eyes, standing from where he'd been crouched near a broken and rotting crate, holding up the squeaking rat in his gloved hands. "He's a cute little guy, isn't he, Ziver?"

Tony grimaced and backed away, holding his hands up. "Yech, Boss, not cool. Can we just put Willard down and continue searching the warehouse for clues on our mysterious perp?"

"Who is Willard?"

Gibbs chuckled shortly, crouching back down to release the rat before discarding his gloves in his jacket pocket. "It's a movie, Ziver."

"Ah. I should have known."

Tony grumbled under his breath as they proceeded further into the warehouse, his nose wrinkling as a rank smell began to permeate the air around them. "Anybody else smell that?"

Gibbs grunted shortly, eyes sweeping the darkened section of warehouse they were in. "You can hear the flies, too. Somethin's dead in here."

Ziva had disappeared off to their side, making her way silently through the packed and abandoned boxes and containers littering the floor. "Gibbs! I found something!"

Gibbs and Tony hurried down the makeshift pathway towards the Israeli. Tony muttered under his breath as they moved along through the shadows. "Yes, Alex, we'll take horror films that occur in badly lit abandoned warehouses for $500, thank you."

They came to a stop where Ziva stood over a bloated body lying on the grimy floor. Flies swarmed around the dead man, the insignia of his Navy uniform barely visible through the grime and muck.

"Oh, goody, double Jeopardy."

"DiNozzo…"

"Calling Ducky, on it." Tony sighed heavily as he walked away, already pulling his cell phone out.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters—3 hours later**

Jenny stood waiting in the garage as the NCIS truck backed in, full of evidence. Gibbs appeared from the side door, holding a few bags of evidence on his hand.

"Hello, Jethro."

"Jen." He removed a pile of dirty gloves from his pocket, tossing them in another free evidence bag before walking over to the elevator. "D'you mind?" He gestured to the retinal scanner, then to his grimy hands and clothing.

"Oh, yes." Jenny joined him at the door quickly, bending to scan her eye. Her nose wrinkled slightly. "What's that smell?"

"That would be Seaman Alexander Ragner, our only suspect."

Green eyes ran up and down his body, cataloguing the slime on his jacket, and what looked suspiciously like blood splatter on the cuff of his pant leg. "You don't mean…"

Jethro smirked, jerking his head towards the now open doors of the back of the truck, where Tony stood, covered from head to toe in something goopy and sticky that hung off him in strands. "DiNozzo tripped leading Duck and Palmer back to the body. It'd been there for a while, judging from the smell. Leak in the ceiling of the warehouse dripping on the body didn't help matters. Ducky called him body soup."

Jenny watched as Palmer and Ducky levered a bulging tarp out of the back of the coroner's van, aided by Ziva. "Oh, that's disgusting. You can't go in the building smelling like that."

"Well yeah, I'm sendin' DiNozzo to the biohazard showers, but most of this is grime from the floor of the warehouse, not the body."

"Jethro, there's blood and gore all over your shoes. You're not setting foot in my building until you get out of those clothes."

Inexplicably, his eyes flickered in amusement. "Can't pace yourself, Jen? Thought you got enough this morning."

She flushed bright red as the implications of her previous statement finally hit. "Shut up. You know what I meant."

"Mmhmm. So we're just supposed to walk around in our underwear while we investigate because you think we smell?"

"No…" Jenny sighed heavily. "I'll get you all some clothes."

"Can ya take this to Abs while you're at it?"

She glared at him briefly as he held out the grime streaked evidence bags, taking them gingerly by one corner as she bent to scan her eye again. "You were planning this all along, weren't you?"

"Nah." Jethro leaned in, kissing her cheek quickly before stepping back with a wink as the elevator doors opened again. "Madame Director."

Jenny rolled her eyes as the doors slid shut. "Bastard."

* * *

"Do decaying bodies normally carry communicable diseases?" Tony's voice echoed in the biohazard showers, over the sound of the three occupants scrubbing themselves vigorously as Jenny walked in, clothes for all three agents in her hands.

Ziva's voice came next. "They can. Why do you ask, Tony?"

"I've got this weird…spot on my arm, where Mister Decaying Body managed to soak through my Dolce & Gabbana shirt, which is now being burned, along with my Ermenegildo Zegna suit, my Armani tie, and my Gucci shoes!"

Jethro's exasperated voice echoed from the stall on the end. "Maybe if ya stopped spendin' so much damn money on how ya look, DiNozzo, you wouldn't have tripped and fallen onto said dead body."

"Boss, seriously, though. That suit cost me two weeks salary!"

"And you probably should have learned from your bout with the plague, DiNozzo."

"Anyone else feelin' itchy? I really think this spot on my arm is something, guys."

Ziva snorted dismissively. "It's a freckle, Tony."

"It's not a freckle."

"Freckle."

"Never had a freckle."

"You have always had a freckle on your arm, Tony."

"Uh, how would you know whether I had a freckle or didn't have a freckle, and by the way, _I have never had this freckle!_"

Jenny finally chose to speak up. "Your clothes are on the bench out here." She paused, calmly addressing Tony. "Agent DiNozzo, Ducky wants to see you down in autopsy."

Ziva chuckled. "There! You can show Ducky your freckle!"

"Do I have to go down to autopsy? Mister Dead-Decaying Body is there!"

Gibbs emerged from his stall, towel wrapped tightly around his waist, clearly uncaring of his state of undress. "DiNozzo…"

"Going to see Ducky, Boss. On it."

Jenny remained silent, raising an eyebrow as Gibbs grabbed his clothes, blue gaze meeting hers and then flicking to the side; towards a clean shower stall a few down from the one he'd just exited.

His lips turned up in a smirk as she rolled her eyes and followed, toeing her heels off along the way.

"Think you can keep it quiet?" His breath washed over her ear as he leaned in behind her, smirk still present.

Jenny chuckled low in her throat and reached back, brushing her hand over his groin, delighting in the sharp hiss of breath. "Not sure I'm the one who's going to have that problem."

He growled low in his throat and tugged her into the shower with him, muffling her gasp with a hand across her mouth. Callused fingers divested her of her clothing in record time, tossing them in a pile under his own and the now discarded towel from his waist.

Jenny bit back a moan, sinking her teeth lightly into his shoulder to muffle a sharp gasp as he hitched her up against the wall under the spray, listening until the sounds of Tony whistling to himself faded out of the room.

"I think we're ok—mmmph!" Her whispered observation was smothered as he leaned forward, kissing her violently, rough hands circling her wrists and bringing them up above her head.

"Thought I told you to keep it quiet?"

Jenny narrowed forest green eyes at him, grinding her hips against his in a deliberate movement. "Move it, Marine."

Gibbs chuckled darkly, leaning in to kiss her again as he shifted and slipped in, grip on her wrists tightening as she writhed against him. "Still can't pace yourself, Jen."

Her retort was cut off by the low hum of a song in another language weaving its way through the air.

Both froze, wide green eyes staring at equally surprised blue as the singing in Hebrew continued. Gibbs grit his teeth and leaned in, mouth against her ear as he dropped his grip on her hands. "Thought you said we were okay?"

"How was I supposed to know Ziva's still here? She's more sneaky than you are!"

"_Gibbs has nice abs, yes?"_ Ziva's voice rose over the sound of falling water, Hebrew dialect unfamiliar to Gibbs.

Jenny paled further, hand against Jethro's chest to prevent him moving. "_Ziva!"_

A low accented laugh. _"I am pretty sure that is not the name you should be yelling."_

"_Shut up!" _

"_Oh, it is quite alright. I know you are merely helping Gibbs wash his back, yes?"_

Jenny groaned, head falling against Jethro's shoulder under the spray.

He took that as consent to continue, recapturing her hands as he thrust again, smirking at the muffled gasp he elicited. "You still got enough brain cells left to speak?"

She whimpered, teeth latching onto the meat of his shoulder, manicured nails digging into his skin.

Jethro grunted, hand rising to cover her mouth again as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Shh…don't want Ziver to hear any more, do we?"

* * *

**_Virtual cookies to whoever recognizes Tony's dialogue and can tell me the episode. *grin*_**

**_okay, back to tweaking before I post the next chap._**

**_reviews are lovely!_**

**_-meg_**


	11. Chapter 11

**_a/n: Here, as promised, is the next installment of the story._**

**_Spoilers: Maaaaajor spoilers for Season 4 Ep. 14 Blowback. _**

**_Disclaimer: Not mine, nope. _**

**_enjoy!_**

* * *

_**11. Diamonds and Guns**_

**February 6, 2007 NCIS Headquarters, Washington, D.C.**

He _knew_ there was something up with her. DiNozzo wouldn't have rushed up to her damn office as soon as they got back from dropping Goliath off if there wasn't anything up.

Gibbs sighed heavily and slipped into MTAC, blue eyes automatically drawn to the man pictured on the giant screen. "Sitting in the dark staring at pictures of your enemy could be considered obsessive."

She laughed without mirth, glancing sideways at him."Kind of like building a fourth boat when you haven't even sailed the first three."

Fair enough. He watched as the next picture appeared, biting back a hidden smirk. _If only she knew…_ "How well do you know the Black Rose?"

"Well enough to know that I'd like her if she wasn't an arms dealer." Jenny shrugged.

Gibbs hid another smirk at the irony and moved on. "…and the Frog?" He clarified after a long silence. "La Grenouille, means the frog."

"I know what it means."

"Then why don't you call him that?"

"_La Grenouille_ is his codename." She spat the words out like they disgusted her.

He ignored the venom in her voice, continuing the conversation easily. "Well…I'm gonna call him the frog." He leaned close, invading her personal space as he let out a low croak.

Jenny's lips twitched like she wanted to laugh, then her gaze sharpened. "Spit it out, Jethro, before it gags you."

"You were outta control today. Why? The deal died with Harrow."

"His copy of ARES might still be in play."

"You don't want ARES, you want him."

She stood, her fists clenched. "Damn right I want him, I have been trying for a decade to bring him down!"

"So it is personal." Confirmation of words he'd heard spoken by her sister months previously. "What did he do to you, Jenny?"

"You have no need to know, Special Agent Gibbs." Jenny slipped into Ice Queen mode easily, her voice just a shade above sub-zero.

"Oh, so we're back to Special Agent Gibbs now?"

She sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. "Just drop it, Jethro."

"You're emotionally invested in this." He stared at her pointedly, his gaze calm. "How am I supposed to drop it? Rule Number ten, Jen."

"I don't know that one."

"Never get personally involved in a case."

Jenny smirked, shaking her head. "Oh that's rich, coming from you. You get personally involved every time your case involves a kid."

"That was low, Jen."

She smiled dangerously, her eyes flashing as she leaned in. "I learned from the best."

Time to drop his metaphorical bombshell, then. "When were you gonna tell me how you think he killed your father? That another thing I don't need to know?"

Jenny blanched, her eyes wide. "How…?"

"You're not the only Shepard your father left behind when he killed himself. Your sister talks too, ya know."

Green eyes hardened with conviction. "My father didn't kill himself. He was murdered."

Gibbs shook his head, negating her pronouncement. "I saw the autopsy reports, Jen. Ruled a left handed suicide. Your dad was a southpaw, wasn't he?"

"He was murdered, Jethro." Her gaze was almost desperate. "My father wouldn't kill himself."

"Why, because he wouldn't leave you and A.J. alone? You said it yourself, Jen. When your mother died, your dad started withdrawing from you and your sister."

"What's your point?"

He shrugged. "He coulda killed himself, you don't know what his state of mind was. You were away working, A.J. was about to start college."

Jenny's eyes flashed in anger as she leaned in again, getting in his face. "Oh, and you know my father oh so well, you know exactly what sort of mindset he'd be in to put a gun to his temple and pull the trigger."

Gibbs smiled strangely, sitting up enough to force Jenny to step back. "Considering I nearly ate my gun after Shannon and Kelly died, yeah, I would know." He took a final sip of his coffee, leaving her with his parting words as he made his way out of MTAC.

* * *

"Did I miss Quebec becoming the fifty-first state?"

"I'm not going to watch that bastard fly away again, Jethro."

"Again?"

Ziva spoke up. "Why don't we snatch him when he lands, toss him in the back of the trunk, and drive over the border."

Tony laughed. "Ahh…That might work where you grew up, Ziva, not here."

"Why not?" Jenny rounded on Tony aggressively, her green eyes flashing.

He held his hands up with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, I'm down with the border snatch. What do we charge him with? Bidding on a Greek villa?"

Ziva spoke up in defense of her partner. Jenny was seriously getting out of hand. "Tony is right. We have nothing on Grenouille until he buys ARES."

"Thank you, sweetcheeks. Aaand, since Harrow's dead, that can't happen."

Noting the growing flush of anger rising up Jenny's neck, Gibbs interceded smoothly before she decided to castrate DiNozzo. Or worse. "Does The Frog know that Harrow is dead?"

"Probably not."

Tony grinned jubilantly, pouncing on the end of his partner's statement. "And if he never met him…"

"All we need is a sixty-eight year old Englishman."

* * *

"Is it pronounced Harrow or Hairrow?"

Ziva smiled as she applied a fake mostache to the ME's upper lip. "Harrow, Ducky. Charles Andrew Harrow."

Abby giggled at the sight of Ducky with the odd facial hair, pulling up a short powerpoint on the plasma. "Okay, Ducky, now pay attention. ARES…"

"Are you certain? Because I was in medical school with an Ian Hairrow. He spelled it the same way."

The Goth sighed. "Duckman, please pay attention. I am trying to give you a crash course in one of the Navy's most complex weapons systems."

"Oh, sorry."

"You look dashing, Ducky."

"Yes, I used to wear a mustache in Singapore when I was attached to…"

Abby sighed, catching his attention again as she resumed her lecture. "ARES is an encryption-decryption system. That means that it's used to encode and decode information. In this case, GPS targeting information for the Navy's cruise missiles. It operates by using the algorithm known as IDEA. It's the same algorithm used for all RSA Legacy keys generated by PGP. It uses a variable-length key, from thirty-two bits to four hundred and forty-eight bits. Questions so far?"

"Are you sure it's not Hairrow?"

Ziva laughed.

"It's a ten hour drive to the Canadian border. We're going to have to go without a surveillance van." Tony glanced at the map again, running a hand through his hair.

"I've got it covered." Jenny breezed in, snapping her phone shut.

"She's got it covered? How?" Tony glanced over at Gibbs in confusion.

"Let's just say it's a favor you and I couldn't have called in."

Abby patted the old computer, handing it over to Ziva. "I know it doesn't look like much, but inside is twenty million bucks worth of ARES."

Jenny stared the Israeli down solemnly. "Guard it with your life."

"Of course." Ziva took the computer and pretended to trip, laughing as Jenny blanched. "Ooh! I find a little levity at the start of a mission relaxing."

"Agent Gibbs, sir, we've got a problem." The temp agent to replace McGee spoke up finally, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

"Just one, Agent Hammer?"

"La Grenouille is sure to have someone there to vet ARES. Now, if someone asks Doctor Mallard to explain something, his duck is cooked, no pun intended, sir."

Gibbs smiled and clapped the bookish man on the shoulder. "Well, that's why you're going to be there with him, Eric."

"Okay, just remember, Ducky…"

Ducky straightened his jacket, settling the hat on his head perfectly. "Charles."

"What?"

"My name is Charles Harrow."

Jenny smiled dryly. "Charles, you've got a plane to catch."

* * *

**Aeroport de Sherbrooke, Quebec, Canada**

"Identification, please." Martin Quinn stepped out of the shadows, coming up to the side of Ducky's car.

Jenny's voice sounded in the ME's ear. _"Martin Quinn. He flew in with Grenouille's advance party two months ago."_

"Open the trunk, please." Quinn moved towards the back of the car, going to check the trunk.

A muffled report rang out, Quinn crumpling to the ground.

"What the devil?" Ducky twisted, looking behind him. "Oh dear…"

A tall bearded man calmly walked forward, smoking gun still gripped loosely in his hand. "Top of the eventide to ye, old chap. Out of the car, if ye please."

There was already a bustle of activity around the plane, before a short burst of automatic fire pinned the men down. Black suited men melted out of the surrounding darkness, all armed to the teeth.

"C'mon, old man, out of the bleedin' car!" The bearded man rapped his gun against the open window, the rest of his features obscured by a grey Windsor Cap pulled low over his forehead. "Move it."

"_Ziva, you have a bead on this guy?"_

"_Someone else has a bead on us, Jenny. There's a lovely little red dot hovering on Ziva's hand. I'm pretty sure whoever these guys are; they don't want us to shoot."_

A gloved hand darted out, snatching the earwig from Ducky's ear as the ME exited the car gingerly, hands held high. "Oho-ho! Earwig! Rosie, this chap's wired!"

The sound of heels clicking preceded the entrance of a slim woman, wearing a black knit beanie, the lower half of her face obscured by a scarf. "Tsk tsk, Master Harrow. Spying on Monsieur Grenouille?"

Ducky swallowed, looking a little worse for wear. "I—I'm not…this isn't what you think."

Windsor cap chuckled. "And what do ye think we're thinkin', mate?"

"I—I don't want anyone hurt." He kept his shaking hands up at shoulder level. "I'm not armed. Merely a business meeting. Earwig is for my safety. S-so I don't end up getting the short end."

"Very business savvy, Master Harrow." She plucked the earwig out of the man's hand and gave it back to him. "Tell your mates to back the sniper off, or they'll be missing a hand."

He fumbled, jamming it back into his ear. "Did you hear that?"

"_Tell them we're calling the sniper off."_

"They're calling the sniper off. N-no need to keep pointing that gun at me."

"Shea, take the gun off the poor chap. He's shaking. Can't have him having a heart attack on us, can we?"

Windsor Cap, whose name was apparently 'Shea', lowered his gun with a chuckle. "Aye, we can't have that. Especially as you aren't Charles Harrow, are you?"

"_Ducky…"_

"I am, actually."

"Police report for a cardiac arrest victim in La Fonte Plaza says you can't be." The woman shook her head. "Regardless, you have ARES. Hand it over."

"I—I don't…who…"

"Seamus Meehan at your service, mate. This is Rose O'Leary."

Ducky sucked in a gasp of breath.

"_Duck, listen to me. Take out your earwig and tell Meehan that your friends want to talk to him."_

The ME complied, holding the earwig out. "My, uh, associates wish to talk with you, Mr. Meehan."

"Fair enough." Meehan reached out his gloved left hand, taking the earwig calmly. "This is Meehan, go ahead."

"_Seamus, it's Liam Gibson." _

"Ooooh boy. Rose, we've got a problem here." Meehan scrubbed a hand over his face, pushing the hat up inadvertently.

Ducky frowned, leaning forward. "Timothy?"

"Yeah, Ducky, it's me." McGee took the hat off, slapping it against his leg a few times in irritation. "Fuck!"

"Yeah, we've got a problem." The woman removed the scarf, revealing her face. "Hey, Ducky. My idiot sister put you up to this?"

"I—I don't…what is going on?"

"Classified. Harrow wasn't supposed to be dead, for one thing. And NCIS wasn't supposed to investigate his death."

"Oh dear."

Tim snorted. "Understatement of the year. Rose, any signal from Tom yet?"

"That's what's got me worried. I don't think Benoit's on the plane."

A cultured, smooth baritone flowed over Ducky's shoulder. "You would be correct in your assumption, my dear Rose."

A.J. grimaced, staring down the French arms dealer. "Rene. I'd say it's lovely to see you, but I'd be lying."

La Grenouille smiled faintly. "Why must we bicker and fight amongst ourselves?" He raised one hand, and half the black suited men around the air field brought their guns to bear, covering their unsuspecting counterparts. "See, the thing about money is…well, sometimes, it can alter loyalties."

"Shit." McGee brought his gun back up to bear. "Du—Harrow, get behind me. Now."

"Why must all this violence be necessary, Monsieur?"

"_Shit's about to hit the fan, Ma-Gee."_

He snorted out a laugh. "Violence isn't necessary, Froggy, but havin' a gun in my hands sure makes me feel better."

"Understandable. If you three would step this way, please." The Frenchman gestured towards the plane. "Oh, and Monsieur Harrow, if you would retrieve ARES for me, _s'il vous plaît_.

Ducky followed the direction after a short nod from McGee, retrieving the large case from the passenger seat.

* * *

Gibbs watched the screen intently, blue eyes searching for any form of a cue from the two agents.

"What's going on, Jethro?"

He shook his head. "Not now, Jen."

"Jethro…you knew about this."

"No, I didn't."

"You knew O'Leary and Meehan weren't who they said they were."

"Doesn't take an idiot to recognize a voice, Jen."

"They're both talking in accents. You're not nearly that good."

"Jen. Shut up. I'm tryin' ta figure a way out of this." His hands tensed a few times on the console as he watched, looking for _anything_ to aid their perilous situation.

* * *

A.J. eyed Benoit warily as she walked along, hands held high in deference to the army of traitorous mercenaries that surrounded them.

"Something tells me this is about more than ARES, Monsieur Grenouille."

Benoit chuckled. "Call me Rene, please; Mademoiselle O' Leary, La Grenouille is so…formal."

"Rene, then. Why don't you tell me what you want, and we'll see if we can come to an agreement?"

He shook his head sadly. "Unless you can protect me from those who attack me, ma cheri, I am afraid you do not have what I want."

A.J. hid a grimace, "How about a gesture of good faith? We let you take ARES and you let us go?"

The Frenchman chuckled again. "Oh so naïve, my dear." He brought them to a stop standing near the plane. "Who says I will not just dispose of the three of you and take ARES for myself?"

"Who says it's not a fake?" McGee spoke for the first time in a while, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. "Why don't ye have your mates give it a look-see, Froggy?"

The Frog's shoulders stiffened slightly at the teasing nickname, but he raised a hand to the plane, waving for someone to come out. Trent Kort and a slim blonde woman appeared from the plane.

"Kort. Mr. Harrow here has ARES. We need to verify."

Tim had palmed the earwig from his ear and slipped it into Ducky's hand, nudging the ME into discreetly replacing it in his ear.

"Monsieur Harrow, ARES, if you please." Benoit gestured to the blonde. "We will verify it, and then your payment will arrive…one way or another."

Ducky stepped forward after a hesitant look over at Tim, handing the computer over.

"This is ARES?"

"Don't judge a book by its cover, my dear." He calmly recited off the specs for the program read into his earwig, stepping back with a genial smile at La Grenouille. "Surely we can come to some form of an agreement, Monsieur. I was unaware of the Black Rose's intention on showing up here. You _are_ still the highest bidder."

"Quite an unfortunate set of circumstances, I know." Rene tucked his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, glancing around at the veritable army of men surrounding them. "I think we can at least get rid of the extra men." He raised one hand and signaled once. The mercenaries in black all promptly turned away, disappearing into the night. "There…that's much better, is it not?"

A.J. smiled tightly, her hands still raised. "I'd feel much better if your sniper would get his bead off my chest, thanks."

* * *

Inside the command bunker, Jenny paled as Ducky's instinctive look over at her sister revealed the shining red dot dead center on A.J.'s chest.

"Ziva…"

"_I cannot get a good shot on him, Jenny. I am surprised he has not noticed us yet."_

"Jen, freakin' out over this isn't gonna help your sister or Tim any."

* * *

Benoit smiled dangerously. "Well, I have to have some sort of advantage in this situation, my dear. After all, Master Meehan over there still has possession of his weapon. Who is to say he will not try to shoot me?"

Tim chuckled low, his gaze nearly murderous. "Only thing stoppin' me pullin' this trigger is your control of that sniper."

The gunshot that cracked through the air next put a rapid end to the situation.

Five things happened at once. Trent Kort appeared on the jetway, sprinting for La Grenouille. A.J. stumbled back, her feet slipping on the slick concrete from the force of the shot. A second, sharp retort echoed across the airfield, the bullet slamming solidly into A.J.'s torso as she fell. Tim lunged across and tackled Ducky, pinning him to the tarmac with his body as his free hand reached for the backup stowed in the small of his back. Kort pulled Benoit to safety, bellowing orders to get the plane going.

"No no no no no. A.J., talk to me, please." Tim extracted his arm from under the stunned ME, half crawling over to the prone form of his wife, already lying in a spreading pool of blood. "C'mon, A.J."

Grey eyes cracked open, fixing on his face. "'S c-cold."

He laughed, a hysterical cracked giggle, as his gloved hands fumbled at the buttons of her coat, trying to find the source of the bleeding. "It's gonna be okay, babe. Everything's gonna be fine."

She cried out in pain as he pressed down heavily on one wound, whimpering between clenched teeth. "_Ah! C-_call Lo—Logan."

"No Logan, we need a hospital." He stilled as footfalls sounded, whipping around and pointing the gun wildly. "Who's there? I'll shoot!" His voice cracked on the last syllable, rasping out in the night.

Ziva and Tony jogged out of the darkness; hands held high and well within his sight. "It is us, McGee." The Israeli nodded slowly over her shoulder. "Gibbs and Jenny are on the way."

Tim startled badly when a gentle hand covered the one he had pressed against the wounds in A.J.'s torso. Ducky instinctively ducked the wild punch, gripping Tim's shoulders. "It's me, dear boy." He waited until recognition dawned, smiling gently. "Why don't you let me take a look?"

Tim fell back on his heels, setting the gun aside carelessly. The sound of footsteps in the night made him lunge for it again, but he relaxed when Gibbs' gruff voice carried through the air.

"Put the gun away, McGee. It's us." Gibbs appeared first, trailed by Jenny and a young agent Tim didn't know. "Eric's gonna go meet the medics." He jerked his head to the side, giving the young agent a look.

Jenny stopped a good few paces away, the color draining from her face as she stared at her sister. The ramifications of her badly cobbled sting op to catch Grenouille lay on the ground bleeding out in front of her.

"What's the word, Doc?" A.J. attempted a weak smile, her eyes clouded with pain.

Ducky smiled without mirth as he probed carefully at her torso, keeping a folded jacket he'd taken from Tim pressed against the flowing blood. "Contrary to what Jethro believes, I cannot make an accurate diagnosis in under five minutes, my dear." He pressed a little harder, trying to staunch the blood. "The paramedics should be able to make a more thorough examination."

The low whine of sirens sliced through the tension of the group, galvanizing them into action. Gibbs and Tony jogged off to help the as yet unknown tech agent (Eric, Tim thought his name was) lead the medics to them. Ziva crouched by Tim's side, rubbing a comforting hand across his back. Jenny kept staring at her sister on the ground, her face ghost white.

* * *

Tim nearly ripped the first medic's head off when the man pressed down on A.J.'s torso, eliciting a sharp cry. Gibbs wrapped him in a near bear hug, pulling him back.

The second medic, a young woman who spoke near impeccable English, raised her eyebrows but didn't comment. "Are there any medical conditions we need to be aware of?"

The question shook him out of the haze he'd been in. "She's…" He paused, swallowing heavily as his hand slipped into his pocket unconsciously, gripping a small object there. "She's three months pregnant."

He ignored the muted gasps from behind him. It wasn't any of their fucking business.

The girl's eyes widened and she turned and began speaking in rapid French with her partner. She turned back after a moment, fixing her eyes on Tim again. "We need to move her now, or there's a chance the baby won't survive." She glanced down at her clipboard. "Who is her next of kin?"

Tim paled considerably. "I—I…she…we're married." He didn't notice Jenny's half step forward out of the corner of his eye, though he felt the tensing of Gibbs' hands on his shoulders. "Should I ride with her?"

The medic glanced at Ducky, her lips thin. "Perhaps Doctor Mallard ought to, sir. He'll be able to update you on her condition as soon as we reach the hospital."

"A—alright." He nodded shortly. "We'll…we'll meet you there, Ducky."

* * *

_Step, pause. Step, pause._

Timothy McGee tried to let the rhythmic tap of his pacing calm him as they waited in the small hospital in Montreal, Quebec. Hazel eyes traveled over the rest of the group waiting with him.

Tony and Ziva, conversing in low tones in the corner of the room. The Italian wasn't even cracking his usual jokes.

Ducky sat closest to the doors closing off the medical wing, waiting patiently for the surgeons who had taken A.J. back to return with an update.

Gibbs leaned against the wall near the ME, his face nearly set in stone.

Jenny Shepard sat alone on the other side of the room, her hands shaking as she stared dully at her lap. She hadn't taken the news that he and A.J. were married well. Or maybe she hadn't taken the news of the pregnancy well. He wasn't really sure.

_Step, pause. Step, pause._

His head shot up when the doors to the ward opened, admitting a young nurse.

"Family of Anastasia McGee?"

"I'm her husband." Tim hurried over after Ducky, his features drawn and tight. "Is she okay?"

"She's…stable, for now." The nurse glanced around at the gathered group, her eyebrows furrowed. "Are _all_ of you her family?"

"I'm her sister." Jenny spoke for the first time in hours, her voice hoarse.

"Brother in law." Gibbs lied without blinking, stepping a little closer to Jenny.

Ducky smiled genially, nodding towards Jenny. "Uncle."

Tony spoke up last, putting an arm around Ziva's shoulders as he cocked his head towards Tim. "I'm his brother, she's my wife."

The nurse smiled oddly, letting the lies pass without comment. "Right. Well, she can have one visitor at a time now."

After a long pause, Tim glanced over to Jenny. "You should go." He swallowed. "I'll talk to her when you're done."

Jenny nodded mechanically, stumbling forward after a gentle nudge from Jethro.

She followed the young nurse without really noticing where she was going, her gaze focused in the middle distance.

"We're here, ma'am." The nurse smiled politely. "I can give you about fifteen minutes."

"Thank you."

The muted beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound filling the small room aside from A.J.'s slightly raspy breathing.

"Hey." A.J. swallowed heavily, lifting one hand in a halfhearted wave. "You look like shit."

Jenny laughed hollowly. "As if you look any better." Her eyes zeroed in on something that flashed in the light on her sister's hand. "So. You're the first Shepard to get married."

"Who woulda thought, huh?" She glanced at the ring with a faint smile on her face. "He makes me happy, Jen."

"Good for you." Jenny couldn't figure out why the pronouncement seemed to bother her so much, her voice stiff. "And when were you going to tell me you worked with La Grenouille."

The smile disappeared. "What, no small talk?"

Her temper flared. "Stop fucking deflecting, A.J., and give me a goddamn explanation."

A.J. arched her eyebrow, staring her sister down. "Why? You're the one who botched the op."

"I didn't do _anything_ but try and catch a man I've been after for a decade!"

"You're letting a personal vendetta get in the middle of doing your job!"

The heart monitor was beeping faster now. A.J. seemed to be having difficulty breathing, but Jenny couldn't see past the rage in her eyes.

"You _lied_ to me! You stole Tim from NCIS to help with your little undercover op." Another thought that had been pricking at the back of her mind for a while now flew to the front. "You _used_ Jethro on an op! You flew down to Mexico and used him!"

"He wasn't your agent!" A.J.'s face tightened in pain. "He was _retired_!"

"_You could have called!_" Jenny's face was flushed. "You just use them like they're your playthings!"

"Tim is MY husband!"

"Oh, like you're going to stay committed to _that_." She laughed scathingly. "Hell, I'm sure if he hadn't knocked you up, you would have left a long time ago."

"Get out." A.J.'s voice was strangled, her eyes bright with rage. The heart monitor was approaching a steady whine. "G-Get _OUT!"_

"FINE!" Jenny spun on her heel, heading out the door when the alarms went off. She turned around, wide-eyed, as A.J. convulsed, choking for breath as she slumped back on the bed.

The nurse brushed past, slapping a red alarm button next to the door. "Code Blue!"

Immediately, a veritable flood of doctors descended on the room. The second or third one in grabbed her violently 'round the arm and practically flung her from the room, snapping for her to 'get out'.

Jenny made it halfway down the hall before they got A.J. out of the room, shouting stats and orders to each other as they headed for the double doors of the operating suite.

* * *

Tim and Gibbs jumped up when Jenny re-appeared half an hour later, walking almost robotically through the doors.

"Can I see her now?"

"She crashed." She spoke tonelessly, her gaze unfocused as she stared off into space.

"What?"

Jenny ignored Tim's desperate questions, stumbling over to the nearest seat, where she sank down.

"Jen?"

"We were arguing, and then…" She blinked, staring up at the worried blue eyes of Gibbs. "She crashed."

Tim paled. "What did you do?"

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, Tim." Gibbs reached out and took his shoulders, staring at him calmly. "Probably just ripped her stitches or something." He ignored the feeling in his gut, trying his best to reassure the young agent. "It's gonna be okay."

They waited for forty-five agonizing minutes. Tony and Ziva offered to get coffee after about twenty, disappearing. Jenny sat where she'd sank down, staring straight ahead. Finally, the doors opened and the young nurse from before hurried out, followed by a blood spattered man in green scrubs.

"Family of Anastasia McGee?"

"You already asked that." Tim pounced almost as soon as the man sat down. "What happened to my wife?"

The surgeon looked up at Tim, his face drawn. "I—maybe you should come with me, Mr. McGee."

Ducky and Gibbs both paled, exchanging glances.

The room was dead silent as Tim obediently followed the surgeon away to a secluded corner, standing calmly as the man began talking.

Blue eyes stayed fixed on the young agent, his gut churning.

"No." Tim shook his head violently. "No. You said she…she was stable." His voice rose. "You said she was stable!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. McGee."

"You said she was stable!" He was hyperventilating now, his chest heaving. "No!"

Ducky sat down heavily, taking his hat off and setting it in his lap. "Oh, dear."

"No, no, no, no." Tim continued to shake his head, staring unseeingly at the surgeon. He flinched badly when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Tim."

"No." He tried to suck in a breath, his face panicked. "No. She's okay. You said she was gonna be fine, Gibbs." His voice broke. "You said it was gonna be fine!" He struck out blindly, his fist landing solidly in Gibbs' gut. "You said it was going to be okay!"

"Shh…" Gibbs took the punches without flinching, wrapping his arms around Tim tightly, pulling him close.

"_NO!_" Tim continued punching at Gibbs ineffectually, loud, rasping sobs ripping out of his chest. "A.J.!"

"Whoooo wants coffee?" Tony's jubilant voice cut through the tension in the air as he and Ziva sauntered in the entrance to the waiting room, carrier cups of coffee balanced precariously in his arms. He stopped abruptly, confused hazel eyes zeroing in on Tim, sobbing in Gibbs' iron grip.

"Probie?"

* * *

**_Yes, I'm evil. I know._**

**_Welcome to the dark side! We have cookies!_**

**_*hides* Don't kill me, please. I promise everything will make sense in a little while._**

**_Reviews are always welcome. Flaming, however, is not. If you don't like it, don't read it._**

**_*deep breath*_**

**_Anyways, I believe that's it._**

**_-meg_**


	12. Chapter 12

_**12. Gravedigger**_

**February 8, 2007—Montreal General Hospital, Montreal, Quebec, Canada**

"Tim."

The voice came through a long tunnel to him, muffled in his ears.

"Tim."

More insistent now.

"Tim."

There was a hand on his shoulder.

"Ma-Gee!"

His head snapped up, vision blurring. Gibbs knelt by him in the too-sterile hallway of the hospital, a comforting hand resting on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Tim, let's get you home."

"No home." Tim shook his head sharply. "Can't go home. Not without AJ."

"A.J.'s gone, Tim."

"No. Can't go home." Scarred fingers twisted desperately around a bloodstained silver necklace, knuckles white. "Hotel."

"Alright, Tim, we'll get a hotel room, that's fine." Hands gripped at his shoulders, lifting and pulling him up to standing. "C'mon, son."

"A.J.'s gone?"

Gibbs' gut churned uncomfortably at the utterly lost note in Tim's voice. He sighed heavily. "Yeah, Tim. Remember? You…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. "You just came from the morgue."

"Morgue." Tim nodded mechanically. "Ducky works in the morgue. Are we going to see Ducky?"

He winced. "No, Tim. Ducky took Jenny to calm down, remember?"

"Jenny. Jenny's A.J.'s older sister. They don't look like sisters, do they?"

"No, Tim, they don't." Gibbs sighed heavily as he steered the grief stricken man along.

"Can't go home. Hotel room, that's good. A.J.'s gone." The young agent's voice cracked on the last word.

* * *

Tony drove mechanically around Montreal, his normal jubilant talkativeness dried up in the wake of A.J.'s death. Ziva sat in the passenger seat, staring out the front window.

"She's gone." He startled even himself when he finally spoke, his voice seeming unnaturally loud in the silence of the car. "She's really gone?"

Ziva opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it. She cleared her throat, winced, and then nodded.

"She just seemed like Superman, ya know?" His fingers drummed aimlessly on the steering wheel. "I mean, not like Gibbs-Superman, but still, she was the badass CIA operative that could stand up to Je—to the Director and she was funny and…" He trailed off. "I liked her. I never told her I liked her. Why didn't I do that?"

Ziva remained silent, a steady stream of tears running down her face.

"I never told Kate how I felt about her, and then she was gone, and I promised myself I'd always tell people how I felt about them after that." His voice was hoarse. "Why didn't I tell her I liked her? She was funny. A.J. could stand up to Gibbs, and there's not many who can do that."

Ziva spoke up after a long silence, her voice low. "She was a good agent."

"Yeah."

* * *

For the first time in his life, Donald "Ducky" Mallard had no idea what to say. He had no stories, no anecdotes, no kind words. He ambled along behind Jenny Shepard, his hands tucked in his pockets.

To be honest, he was a little worried for Jenny.

As best as he and Jethro could understand from her monosyllabic responses, she had actually been in the room when A.J. crashed.

Jethro seemed to think Jenny thought she may have been part of the reason A.J. had crashed, based on something she'd muttered under her breath before she stopped talking altogether.

While Jenny had killed before, the experience of seeing a family member die was extremely different.

"Jennifer?" He came up short when he realized she had stopped, passing her by a few feet.

Jenny stared at the gnarled oak tree in front of her. "We used to have a tree like this in the backyard, when A.J. was little."

"Oh." He mentally cursed his sudden bout of ineloquence. Jenny ignored him and continued talking as if he hadn't spoken.

"She loved to climb it." She reached out, her fingers brushing against the rough bark. "Dad kept telling her not to do it. He was afraid she'd fall."

Ducky remained silent. He wasn't entirely sure she even knew he was still there.

"She fell from one of the higher branches one afternoon. I think she was six or seven, maybe. There was an odd wind or something, knocked her off balance." Jenny swallowed. "I was so scared. Dad was at work, I'd just gotten my learner's permit, so I had to drive her to the hospital." She shivered. "She wouldn't stop screaming for Mom."

There was a long pause.

"After that, I promised myself I'd never let anything happen to her. Just because Mom wasn't there anymore didn't mean A.J. had to spend her life without one."

Realization dawned as Ducky connected where she was going. "Jennifer…this was not your fault. A.J. was…" He stopped, flinching. "Is a grown woman. She had been living on her own for quite a while now."

"I killed my sister, Ducky." She hugged herself tightly, her nails digging into the skin of her arms painfully.

There it was, the words he and Jethro had been dreading. "You did not kill your sister, Jennifer."

"We were arguing. I made her angry. I wasn't paying attention, and that damn heart monitor just wouldn't stop beeping…" Jenny choked off a sob, her face white.

"She was not as stable as the surgeons previously believed." Ducky sighed heavily, his mind going back to the horribly clinical and doctor-like words of the hospital report handed to him when they arrived down in the hospital morgue.

_Officer McGee suffered two GSW to the torso, one just under the seventh rib, creating a tear in her left lung, and the second impacting further up the torso, just under the right shoulder. A fragment of the second bullet nicked the superior vena cava, causing a slow bleed that eventually resulted in her cardiac arrest and subsequent death. _

_Cause of death: Cardiac Arrest. Pronounced deceased at 11:53 PM EST, February 7, 2007. _

_Next of Kin Timothy McGee notified at 12:01 AM EST, February 8, 2007. _

_Positive identification of the deceased, Anastasia Jaqueline McGee (nee Shepard), made by Timothy McGee, Jennifer Elizabeth Shepard, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs at 01:20 AM EST in Montréal Hôpital, Montreal, Quebec, Canada._

_Preliminary report delivered to Doctor Donald Mallard, NCIS. Body secured for transport by Jennifer Elizabeth Shepard to Arlington, VA, United States of America._

He rubbed a tired hand down his face, blinking slowly. "A.J. had a slow bleed the surgeons didn't catch when they originally took her in for surgery." He swallowed heavily. "She would have gone into cardiac arrest regardless of your argument."

Jenny shook her head numbly. "It was my fault." She shivered again. "I told her that her marriage with Tim was a sham. What sort of person am I?"

"You were understandably upset and shaken." Ducky moved to her side, settling a warm arm around her shoulders. "And if I know your sister at all, she probably provoked part of it."

She laughed, half sobbing. "Yeah, she kept deflecting the question." Jenny sniffed. "I don't have a family, Ducky."

"Yes you do."

"No, they're gone. Mom to cancer, Daddy was…murdered, and now A.J.'s gone." She turned to him, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm not supposed to bury my baby sister, Ducky."

"I know, my dear." Ducky sighed heavily, holding the sobbing woman in a loose embrace as she cried on his shoulder. "I know."

* * *

**February 12, 2007—Law Offices of Maximus and Theodore Smytherington-Forsythe, Arlington, VA**

The law offices of Maximus and Theodore Smytherington-Forsythe were well furnished without being too ostentatious, the University of Notre Dame paraphernalia that plastered along one wall giving no doubt as to where the twin brothers graduated from.

Gibbs adjusted the restrictive tie on his suit as he ushered Tim in, keeping one grounding hand on the young man's shoulder. Ducky and Jenny were already there, the kindly doctor speaking in low tones to the silent redhead.

Jenny hadn't spoken to him in days. Granted, he knew from experience that funeral arrangements were no small task to undergo, but A.J. had made her own arrangements previously as a precaution of her line of work, which meant that Jenny was avoiding him.

He ignored the churning in his gut that foretold bad things coming of this meeting and flopped down in the chair next to Ducky, tugging Tim down in the seat adjoining his. They only had to wait a few more minutes for three people he didn't recognize to filter in before one of the lawyers (he didn't know if it was Max or Theo) stood and cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon to you all. I'm Max, this is my brother Theo." He paused, brushing a few stray blonde curls out of his face. "I'll not waste your time saying this is a joyous occasion, because we have all lost a great friend and confidant in A.J."

The twins both bowed their heads solemnly, followed by the rest of the room. After a long moment of silence, Theo looked up and moved to the desk, where he drew a thick document out of a heavy folder. "And, now we move on to the reading of A.J.'s last will and testament."

Max joined his brother at the desk. "I do hope you'll all excuse our slight lack in the formality of addressing A.J. by her full name, we've been friends since college and she always hated it."

"Now, if Masters Timothy McGee and Leroy Jethro Gibbs would join us up here as the signed witnesses, we can begin."

"What do you mean, signed witnesses?" Jenny's head snapped up sharply.

The brothers looked at each other, and then to Gibbs and Tim before shrugging. "Mr. McGee and Mr. Gibbs were both present as witnesses the last time A.J. had her will amended, ma'am."

Gibbs studiously avoided meeting her gaze as he took his place behind Tim, his gut rolling into overdrive now. This _really_ wasn't going to end well.

"Right, then." Theo cleared his throat and flipped the first page of the document over. "The living will of Anastasia Jaqueline Shepard. In the event of my death or permanent incapacitation, I, Anastasia Jaqueline Shepard, leave my estate and personal possessions as follows…"

"To Maximus and Theodore Smytherington-Forsythe, I leave my entire collection of comic books and graphic novels, in the hope that they both will remember fondly our college years and take good care of my collection."

"To Alexandra Maddox MacGregor, I leave my entire wardrobe." Gibbs' gaze was drawn to a thin, willowy brunette about A.J.'s height, one of the three who had slipped in at the last minute. "I know she will use it well, as she always used to steal my clothes in our dorm."

"To Conor Quentin Astley, I leave my Ducati Supersport 800 motorcycle, in the hopes that he will at the very least be able to maintain it better than any of my other friends." A lanky black haired man with glasses standing behind Alex MacGregor grinned faintly, shaking his head with silent laughter.

"To Emma Cameron Johnson, I leave the entirety of my book collection, as meager as it may be. I hope it adds to your veritable library of books in your own home." The last of the three mystery arrivals, a short blonde girl with her hair twisted back in a bun, exchanged an exasperated smile with Alex and Conor standing next to her.

"To Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I leave my goldfish Percival and his bowl, in the hopes that he will remember me fondly when he sands that monstrosity in his basement he calls a boat."

"To Doctor Donald Mallard, I leave my classic 1970 Bentley T1 Drophead Coupe, in the hopes that he will appreciate it as much as his beloved Morgan."

"To my sister, Jennifer Elizabeth Shepard, I leave the entirety of my inheritance from our father, Col. Jasper Shepard, on the condition that it be used to aid in procuring some decent equipment for that hellhole of an agency she runs."

Theo paused, wincing apologetically as he looked at Jenny before clearing his throat and moving on.

"Finally, to my fiancée, Timothy McGee, I leave my Oxford Drive penthouse, my Audi TTS Coupe, and the contents of the capsule buried in space 4 F of the Bond Lot at CIA Headquarters in Langley, VA." Theo paused again and withdrew a thin envelope from the folder. "This is also for you, Mr. McGee."

Gibbs took it and pocketed it after it became clear Tim wasn't moving and gestured for the two brothers to continue.

Max cleared his throat again and picked up where his brother left off.

"Any and all of my other possessions and estate are to be donated to the charity of Tim's choosing after a period of eighteen months following my death or incapacitation."

"Signed Anastasia Jaqueline Shepard, Witnessed by Timothy McGee and Leroy Jethro Gibbs." With a low sigh, Max set the document down. "That's the entirety of it, folks. You were all asked to the reading as listed beneficiaries of A.J.'s will, and if you'll leave your contact details with our secretary, we will be in contact to arrange the transfer of ownership of each item."

Gibbs could _feel_ the simmering anger of Jenny's glare at the back of his head as they stood back to let everyone exit the office.

This _definitely_ wasn't going to end well.

* * *

**February 16, 2007—Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, VA**

To Gibbs' eternal horror, he had been listed as a pallbearer for A.J.'s coffin in the funeral procession. He, along with Max and Theo, Conor Astley, Tony DiNozzo, and A.J.'s part-time CIA partner Logan James were the six men appointed to carry the coffin into and out of the service, and to the grave after the procession.

A.J. proved surprisingly astute in planning her own funeral down to the last minute detail of seating arrangements at the Mass, and had seated him next to Jenny.

On the appointed day of the funeral (perhaps the _only_ thing about A.J.'s funeral she had not arranged), the sun dawned bright and clear, without a cloud in the sky.

He went through the motions of the Mass, walking slowly up the center aisle with measured strides each time they carried the coffin, and got to the cemetery without mishap.

As the Father raised his hands over the coffin and began incanting the Last Rites, all hell broke loose.

Or, to be more accurate, _Jenny_ broke loose.

One second he was standing by the graveside, lending silent support to a white faced Tim. In the next, Gibbs found himself flat on his six, blood flowing profusely down his mouth and chin.

Ziva and A.J.'s friend Alex lunged forward, trapping the grief-stricken redhead in their arms as they both pulled her away from Gibbs.

"It's your fault!" Jenny fought their grip tenaciously, tears streaming down her face. "You _hid_ things and you let her keep going on all those ops behind my back while you were off on your goddamn margarita safari! You knew about the marriage, you knew about the damn will—what else are you hiding, you bastard?"

Gibbs laid silently, his face impassive as she continued railing at him.

"You always keep your fucking _secrets_ and you can't even trust me enough to tell me my own sister got married! We're _sleeping together_ and you can't even have the common decency to tell me you ran an op with my sister behind my back." She struggled again, pulling Ziva and Alex forward a few feet in the strength of her rage. "I loved you, and you can't even change for that. You keep all your damn secrets, and now my sister is g—gone." Her voice finally broke on the last word, and Jenny crumpled into a sobbing heap at his feet, leaving the funeral attendees shocked and terrified.

* * *

**February 23, 2007—NCIS Headquarters, Washington, D.C.**

"Tim, you sure you wanna do this?" Gibbs reached out and stalled the elevator, giving the strangely calm man beside him a searching look.

Tim held his head high, meeting Gibbs' stare evenly. "Quit NCIS? Yes, I'm sure." He paused, glancing down at his feet. "I can't…I can't work here, Boss. Not anymore."

After a long pause, Gibbs nodded shortly. "I understand." He reached out and started the elevator again, stepping back out of the other man's space. "Do you want me in there with you?"

"When I talk to the Director?" Tim hesitated, his earlier bravado failing him. "I—maybe you should." His mouth twitched in a grim smile. "I can't really promise I won't lose my temper at her."

"Fair enough."

* * *

"Director Shepard will see you now." Cynthia gave them both sympathetic glances, hurrying around her desk to open the door to admit them.

"Agent Gibbs. Agent McGee." Jenny's voice was hoarse, her face pale with noticeable bags under her eyes. "I thought I told you to take a few weeks bereavement leave, Agent McGee?"

"That's what I came to talk to you about, Director." Tim forced a polite smile. "I'm tendering my resignation, ma'am."

"What?"

"I'm resigning from NCIS, ma'am." He stepped forward, slapping a folder with his letter down on her desk. "Effective immediately."

"You can't…" Jenny stopped, swallowing harshly in an attempt to firm up her voice. "You're required to give two full week's notice, Agent McGee."

"No, he's not."

Her eyes flashed. "And since when were you read up on NCIS protocols regarding resignation, _Agent Gibbs_?"

Gibbs smirked, removing a thick handbook from behind his back, which he tossed carelessly on her desk. "Article 16, Paragraph 4, Section B. _In the event that an NCIS Special Agent loses a spouse or loved one on the job, they are entitled to the right to tender their resignation from the Agency effective immediately without repercussion from the Agency."_

"You're not…he can't…" Jenny paged through the book rapidly, reading the outlined section. "You didn't lose a loved one on the job. You were working for the C.I.A. at the time of A—at the time of your wif—when she died."

Tim laughed hollowly. "Actually, if you'd bothered to read that contract, you would find that I _was_ still in the employ of NCIS this whole time. I'm a liaison agent to the CIA."

Grasping at straws, Jenny tried another desperate ploy. "If you resign, you will do nothing but impugn the integrity of NCIS."

With a dangerous, almost shark-like smile, Tim leaned in and set his hands on her desk, drawing attention to the shrapnel scars across his left forearm. "I don't care about the integrity of your agency, Director. I've already been injured once on the job. No one is going to protest if I resign because my wife got killed in the process of a badly planned NCIS operation on foreign soil. You don't have a leg to stand on. Sign the letter, and let me go."

She shook her head. "You haven't given a valid reason for resignation. I'm offering you the full allotted bereavement leave time, and then some."

"You want a reason why I'm resigning from NCIS, Director? The only person I've ever loved in this world got killed by _your_ vendetta. You can take the supposed integrity of your goddamn agency, and _shove it_." Tim slammed his right hand down on the folder in front of her violently, his eyes dark. "_Sign it._ Now."

With shaking hands, Jenny removed the form from the folder and signed it. "I—I need your badge and service weapon."

He stepped back, withdrawing his badge and tossing it haphazardly on her desk without so much as a glance. "I'll be going now, Director Shepard."

Jenny finally found her voice when the two men reached the door. "A—Agent McGee."

Tim stopped.

"Your service weapon."

Tim glanced over at Gibbs, shrugging. After an uncomfortable pause, Gibbs strode over and dropped the gun and holster on the conference table.

"And your backup."

Slowly, Tim shook his head. "No, Director, you can't take that. It's my personal weapon, and I've got the permits to carry it." With a final, terrible mirthless smile, Timothy McGee turned away and left her office, the door sounding a death knell in his wake.

* * *

**Apartment of A.J. McGee, Washington, D.C.**

"You don't have to do this today, Tim."

"Yeah, I do." McGee paused outside the apartment door, his thumb rubbing over the key gripped in his hand.

With a heavy sigh, Gibbs stepped back and let his agent unlock the door.

The apartment stood dark and cold, just as Tim and AJ had left it the last time they were in the city.

McGee swallowed haltingly, taking a few fumbling steps forward into the apartment. His hand traced along the wall slowly, brushing over the light switch.

With a single click, the apartment was bathed in light, revealing the person standing at the end of the hallway.

A.J. Shepard—or more recently, McGee—stood there, her right arm bound up in a sling, very much alive.

Tim's hand trembled visibly as he reached out towards her, convinced she was another apparition.

"Hey, Tim." A.J. smiled gently, taking his hand and pressing it against her cheek as grey eyes moved to the third occupant of the room. "Jethro."

Gibbs actually looked like he might faint, his normally tan face blanched almost white. "You're…"

"Not dead. I know. Surprising, huh?" The blonde grinned, taking her stunned husband by the hand. "The whole bit at the hospital didn't go as planned."

"What d'you mean, not as planned?"

"Tim was supposed to come visit me, not Jen." A.J. sighed as she gestured to her abdomen. "The rib shot was a squib. The shoulder shot…" She grimaced, gesturing to the sling. "Well, not so much. Anyways, Tim was meant to come back and visit and he'd be in the know when I supposedly died." She reached over, cupping his face in both hands. "I should have expected he'd be a gentleman and send Jen back first."

Tim choked out a sob and lunged forward, crushing her in a tight hug.

She fixed Gibbs with a pointed look over her crying husband's shoulder. "NCIS wasn't supposed to be there. Any particular reason why they were?"

He grimaced. "Tip from one of Ziver's contacts. Jen's had DiNozzo undercover doin' somethin' about Le Froggy. We took an arms dealer named Goliath into custody, he led us to Charles Harrow."

"And then when you tried to bring Harrow in for questioning, he died."

"Uh huh."

A.J. huffed out a short laugh. "And what happened to your nose? You look like hell."

Gibbs' neck flushed. "Your, uh…your sister broke it. At the funeral."

"No _way._" Her eyes lit up in amusement. "I have _got _to get that video from Logan."

"So what is this…some sort of cover-up?"

A.J. nodded. "We needed a way to draw Grenouille out of hiding. Trent is working from his end, but we needed to scare him. The assassination of a rival arms dealer worked as a good distraction." Her mouth twisted in a frown. "Only problem is, Tim and I have to go into hiding. Grenouille can't know Tim works for NCIS."

Gibbs coughed, scratching the back of his neck. "Right. About that…"

"What?" She pulled back gently from Tim's death grip. "Don't tell me you resigned."

McGee nodded slowly, his fingers tracing her face over and over again, as if he were convinced she would disappear if he stopped touching her. "I can't work for her. I _won't_ work for her."

She groaned. "Oh, for Christ's…_damn_ it, Gibbs."

"What?"

"You were supposed to keep him from doing this!"

"How was I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, tell him he's throwing away the one job he's loved more than anything in the world?"

"I'm not." Tim straightened, meeting her exasperated gaze with a strong look. "The one thing I love more than anything in the world is standing right here in front of me."

A.J. winced. "Tim…you love NCIS. I can't take that from you."

"You aren't."

"Look, A.J., even if he did stay with NCIS, he can't take an indefinite leave of absence until the Frog comes out of the woodwork. Your sister would catch on that something is going down." Gibbs shook his head. "She's been pursuing Grenouille for years…she's paranoid."

"Fine…fine." She rubbed a hand down her face. "Look, regardless, we need a safe place to stay. I don't trust my sister not to badger Abby into hacking the CIA to find a safe house, so we need somewhere else. Any suggestions?"

He thought for a moment. "I'll make a call."

A.J. listened with one ear as Gibbs disappeared down the front hallway, his phone already open in his hand.

"Mike…I need a favor."

_**A/n:**_

_**Finally got this thing out! Um, don't kill me. See, I brought AJ back! In somewhat non-chronological order, the next four chapters will include "Brothers in Arms", "Angel of Death", "Bury Your Dead", "Requiem", and "Chimera".**_


End file.
